Of Singing and PomPoms
by Keywi
Summary: AU: When Rachel joins the Cheerios, she gets tossed into the chaos known as girl world, filled lies, secrets, and one Sue Sylvester. What can she do as both the Cheerios and glee club crumble around her? Endgame Faberry,Brittana,Faberrittana friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** My first Glee fic, like ever...I know, right? So this is loosely based on _Mean Girls_; however, after a few chapters it'll branch off into its own storyline with dashes of _Mean Girls_ in it. Reviews and constructive criticism are much appreciated.

**Pairings**: Faberry, Brittana (there's also some Finchel)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee or Fox or anything. If I did, you wouldn't be reading this as fanfiction.

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><p><em><strong>Of Singing and Pom-Poms<strong>_

**Chapter One: Introducing Rachel Berry**

**Rachel Berry ***

The short brunette girl placed a sticker of a gold star after her signature. It was how she always signed her name. The gold star represented her future of stardom on Broadway. Ever since she was a toddler she had dreams of singing on the Broadway stage, a dream her dads had nurtured well. She had been taking singing lessons since was two years old, and she had had ballet and gymnastic classes since she could walk. The performing arts were her life, her love, her passion. She breathed it. She oozed it.

Now was her big break.

She had just signed up to audition for her new school's glee club.

Back in her old private school, she had been a nobody in her school's choir. William McKinley High School would be different she was sure. Her old high school was large, and it was hard to be noticed. It was for gifted students with superior talents in the arts, and very hard to get in. But in McKinley, a public high school, filled with commoners and slack-offs, she was sure to be big.

When one of her dads got a job transfer to Lima, Ohio, she was sure her life was over. Up until present time, she had been born and raised in Chicago by her doting fathers. But after thinking it over logically, she had an epiphany: this was not her demise, but a break through. A small town would be _begging_ for a talent such as herself. People would notice her. People would love her. People would know she is special.

This was really _her_ year.

It was September, and the first day of school and the start of her sophomore year. Rachel had not been so excited for the school year to begin since her first day of kindergarten. She smiled as she studied her signature, with its flowing _R_ and _B _so lovingly scripted. New Directions was about to receive the answer to all its prayers: Rachel Berry was here now. She would breathe life into this glee club and make it a winner. Make it special. Being in something special makes one special, she believed. And that was what she was: special.

The bell rang, snapping her out of her reverie. Soon the hallways filled up with other students as they emptied out of their respective classes. Voices buzzed and lockers slammed and foot steps thumped, even the noise was crowding her. Rachel was repeatedly pushed aside by jocks in lettermen jackets, girls in cheerleader uniforms, and other nameless students as she pushed her way through the congregation of teenagers. The short girl was suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

Back in Chicago High School for the Arts, the halls were much tamer. Students spoke softly about songs they were practicing, dances they had learned, or new brush strokes to try on paintings. No one shoved. No one pushed. They said "Excuse me" or "Pardon me." Bullying was minimal to nonexistent. Students held a mutual respect for each other. They were all young artists polishing their skills for future endeavors.

Rachel was brought out of her thoughts once again as she felt someone ram into her, knocking her to the cold, tiled floor. She grunted indignantly as she gathered her books hastily.

"Watch where you're going, midget!"

The brunette looked up to see three girls looking down at her. Two blondes and one brunette, each clad in a red-and-white cheerleader outfit. The shorter blonde, the one who had spoken to her, glared as though she had been wronged by Rachel while the brunette one looked as though Rachel's mere existence offended her. The tallest girl just stared down at her blankly and fidgeted.

Rachel suddenly felt very small.

"I'm sorry," she managed to squeak at the shorter blonde.

The cheerleader huffed and flicked her ponytail in annoyance and walked away, the other two girls following closely behind.

Rachel began to wonder if she had been wrong about public school. She quickly shook the silly thought off and gathered herself to her first class of the day.

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><p>When the final bell rang, Rachel could hardly contain herself. Her audition for the New Directions was next. She felt her excitement buzzing through her veins like some sort of powerful drug. Putting on her best smile, she swiftly made her way to the auditorium. Quietly picking her way through the seats, she took a chair next to another girl.<p>

A boy was on stage singing currently, he was finely dressed and had quite a good voice. Not as good as her own, but it was good enough to make Rachel feel a twinge of worry. His voice echoed in the auditorium as he sung his rendition of "Mr. Cellophane." She was not the only Broadway lover here. She was not the only talented student here. She felt the gold star in heart begin to glow just a little less brightly.

When the song came to a finish, the boy smiled and took a bow.

"Thank you, that was excellent, Kurt," said a man with a kind smile.

He was William Schuester, Rachel recalled. She was in his Spanish class as well. He had seemed nice, young enough to remember what it was like to be a student. He almost reminded her of her professors at her old high school.

She had not factored in homesickness when she made out her plans of stardom in a small town.

"Mercedes Jones, you're next," announced Mr. Schuester.

The girl beside Rachel got up and made her way on stage. The petite brunette exchanged a polite smile with Kurt as he sat down.

"I'm gonna be singing 'Respect' by Aretha Franklin," dark-haired girl stated before the music started.

To Rachel's horror and dismay, this girl was good too. She was powerful and soulful in a way Rachel was not sure if she could emulate. That fact scared her. She could almost see her perfect blueprint of sophomore year burning in her mind's eye.

Mr. Schuester clapped. "Thank you, Mercedes, you were amazing."

"Thanks, Mr. Schue!" grinned the diva as she returned to her seat next to Kurt.

Next up was Rachel. She felt nervous for a moment, but only for a moment. It was time to show her competition whom they were dealing with. If there was one thing Rachel Berry could do, it was sing. She felt the gold star inside her glowing at full force as she stepped foot on the stage. It felt like a fire burning within her. Or maybe more like a supernova. Yes, more like a supernova because she always goes out with a brilliant burst of light that was her voice.

Mr. Schuester gave her a warm, welcoming smile which Rachel returned with her own starlet smile.

"Hello, I'll be singing 'On My Own' from the ever classic _Le Misarables_," she beamed.

The music started and so did she. She started out soft, her voice like a gentle breeze or a feather in said breeze. Her emotions melted into the song. It was a religious experience to her as she became one with the music. She let her surroundings fade as the music progressed. She mentally prepared herself for the long note near the end. When the time came, she belted out the note with grace and power and emotion. The melody drifted away and her voice returned to that soft place before disappearing all together.

"That was awesome, Rachel!" praised Mr. Schuester before he welcomed all three students to New Directions.

This was definitely _her_ year.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Beware of Things Most Unholy**

Rachel smiled triumphantly as Will Schuester welcomed her and the others to New Directions. The glee club was small presently, he said, but soon other kids would see how cool it is to sing and dance. So far, her plan to fame was going relatively smoothly. Soon, soon, everyone would realize what a talent she was and how special. And in turn, she would make this glee club special too.

"You're good," said the boy next to her as the three club members exited to the auditorium.

"Thanks," beamed the shorter girl, "You were excellent too. I see you're a fan of Broadway as well."

"Indeed," he smirked before extending his hand, "I'm Kurt Hummel."

She took his hand with a polite smile, "Rachel Berry."

"I'm Mercedes Jones," the other girl introduced herself.

"You're rendition of Aretha Franklin's 'Respect' was quite exquisite," Rachel complimented courteously.

"Thanks," replied Mercedes with a wide grin, "As a diva myself, it's kinda required that I sing that song at least once." She paused, looking the petite girl up and down. "Kurt and I've been friends since middle school. I don't remember you, are you a freshmen or something?"

"Oh no, I transferred here from Chicago," Rachel tried to remain modest; however her pride was still evident. "I used to go ChiArts, that's the Chicago High School for the Arts. It's a school for those exceptionally talented in the arts, like myself." She gave the two a friendly smile.

"So, you've never been to a real high school?" Mercedes questioned.

Rachel tried not to be offended. "ChiArts is a real a high school."

"What Mercedes means is, you've never been to a school like McKinley, which is filled with mouth-breathing jocks, stuck-up cheerleaders, and the over-all mundane," Kurt elaborated for Rachel.

"Oh, I guess not," Rachel conceded.

"Let us enlighten you then," said the boy as he linked his arm around hers and let the two girls outside and headed toward the football field. They climbed the bleachers over looking the field, giving them an excellent view of the sports area. Kurt ushered the ladies to the top row and took a seat. Mercedes and Rachel followed suit.

"All right," Kurt began, "Let me break it down for you: high school is made up of several different cliques. You've got your nerds, slackers, band geeks, Asian nerds, cool Asians, burn-outs, etc. They're all white noise. They don't really matter; none are really above the other."

"Which group am I in?" Rachel tilted her head slightly.

"You're a gleek," Mercedes stated bluntly, then smiled, "Don't worry, so are we and any other person who joins glee club."

"Most people won't care," Kurt continued, "However, there are two groups you should beware of. First is the jocks."

"McKinley's football team is crap," said the other girl, "The Titans haven't won a single game since like the 80's. But they still hold plenty of power at this school. The football team has it in for any and all freaks or geeks that wander the halls."

Kurt took over again. "I think they're just suffering from low self-esteem since they can't win games so they make sure they tear others down to feel better about themselves."

"Well, now that we've psychoanalyzed the jocks," Mercedes replied, her tone slightly sarcastic, "The footballers aren't the top dogs as much as they might think. They mostly carry out the dirty work for the real rulers of the school."

"Like the slushie facial," Kurt mentioned casually.

"What are those?" Rachel asked nervously.

All this talk was slightly daunting. Back at ChiArts, there had been cliques, yes, but they mostly kept to themselves. Singers with singers, dancers with dancers, artists with artists. No one ever thought of one group being better than another; just a different form of self-expression.

"A slushie facial is when someone throws a slushie at your face," the boy explained. "Believe me, they're worse than they look. The ice stings and gives you a major brain freeze. Not to mention that the food dye burns your eyes and stains your clothes."

"Oh," the small brunette replied. She was definitely feeling homesick now.

Rachel waited a moment before asking, "You said they answered to the real rulers here. Who are they?"

Her companions exchanged a glance with each other.

"You'll see in a few minutes," was all Kurt said in return.

The three of them sat in silence on the bleachers overlooking the football field. A stream of red-and-white uniformed cheerleaders filed outside and began stretching. Even from the distance, Rachel could see that each girl seemed to be the definition of grace and athletics. Willowy and slender, she knew instinctively that they were champions. The toned muscles in their legs and arms flexed with every movement. Rachel suddenly felt insignificant just being near them.

Mercedes pointed to the cheerleaders. "Those are the Cheerios. They've won the National Championship like five years in a row."

"They're like the McKinley elite. If high school were Hollywood, they'd be on the top of the A-list," said Kurt, his voice filled with both scorn and envy.

"And they are ruled by the three most evil bitches you'll ever meet: the Unholy Trinity," Mercedes searched the sea of miniskirts until she found the three. "Look, there they come now."

Out from the gymnasium walked, no glided, three flawless girls, two blondes and a brunette. Rachel stared with silent awe. Suddenly, she realized, they were the three cheerleaders she had run into earlier that morning.

Kurt pointed to the taller blonde girl, "That one there is Brittany Pierce. She is one of the dumbest girls you'll ever meet."

Brittany was bouncing with a giant smile on her face after the brunette. She was long-limbed and lithe; everything about her screamed that she was an excellent dancer. Even in the way she skipped after her dark-haired friend, she displayed grace and poise.

"Kurt sat next to her in Biology last year," Mercedes mentioned.

Kurt chuckled, "She told me that dolphins were just gay sharks."

Rachel and Mercedes shared a short laugh with the boy.

"That little one," Mercedes motioned to the brunette, "is Santana Lopez."

"Her parents are totally rich because they're both doctors," Kurt explained.

Mercedes took over then. "Santana Lopez knows everybody's business. She knows everything about everyone."

"That's why her boobs are so big: they're full of secrets," Kurt motioned to the cheerleader's chest.

Santana wore a scowl on her face, seeming to dare anyone to cross her. The Latina's eyes raked around the football field, perhaps looking for more secrets. Her gaze only softened when Brittany linked their pinkie fingers together.

"Don't _ever_ let Santana hear you bad-mouthing Brittany," Kurt warned Rachel, his high-pitched voice dark and ominous.

"Last year, Artie Abrams called Brittany stupid," Mercedes said. "And Santana totally went bat-shit crazy on him." She paused for dramatic effect. "Let's just say that Artie didn't need a wheelchair before he crossed Santana."

Rachel shivered and made a mental note to never offend the temperamental Latina.

Lastly, a platinum blonde cheerleader strutted out and took her place in front of Brittany and Santana. She was the ideal picture of an all-American girl. Fair-skinned, light hair, hazel eyes, and a perfect smile, Rachel was amazed she had never seen the girl on the cover of a magazine before. She was the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. Rachel felt so plain compared to her.

"And evil takes a human form in Quinn Fabray. She may act like she's some good li'l innocent Christian girl. But in reality, she's so much more than that," Mercedes' voice had a dangerous edge to it.

"She's fabulous but she's evil," Kurt added. He was about to say more when his best friend held up a hand for silence.

"Look, they're starting."

Music pumped out of somewhere Rachel could not see, and immediately, the cheerleaders sprang into action. They were flawless as they flipped, spun, and danced around the football field. The movements were smooth and harmonious as the voice of Madonna narrated their performance. Rachel was reminded of starlings in the nature documentaries she loved, of how the birds flew as a single unit. The Cheerios were like a flock of starlings, they nearly flew with grace and synchronicity that the brunette could only describe as other-worldly. They moved like one large red-and-white mass, contracting and expanding, jumping up and down. They seemed as though they were floating. They were one, made up of many.

It was magical.

It was hypnotic.

It was breathtaking.

The music reached its climax and the cheerleaders amassed into a large pyramid with Quinn landing on top of the summit right as the final note ended. Rachel suddenly felt the need to remind herself to breathe. She was in utter awe. The performance was like a spiritual awakening, but with more pom-poms. These Cheerios made her old school's cheerleaders appear to be nothing more than toddlers at play.

"Somewhere on the English countryside, in a stately manor home, Madonna is weeping!" a tall women barked through a megaphone at the girls as they slowly broke formation.

Rachel gaped. "But that was amazing!"

"That's the Cheerios' coach Sue Sylvester," explained Mercedes. "She's always like that. It's probably why the Cheerios are so freaking good."

Kurt smirked. "I heard a rumour that she's Chuck Norris's kid sister."

"I'd believe it," grinned his best friend.

"Beware the Cheerios," Kurt stated ominously. "They are the true rulers of this school. They could probably get away with murder easily. Coach Sylvester could get them out of any amount of trouble they land in if she so pleases. Some say she has dirt on Principal Figgins, but I'm not sure what that would be. But regardless, they are basically immune to any, if not all, rules at McKinley."

Mercedes picked up the warning. "All the Cheerios answer to the Unholy Trinity, and all the jocks answer to the Cheerios. They're nothing but little workers for Quinn Fabray; Sue Sylvester is the only person above Quinn. And Quinn uses that power ruthlessly."

Beware of Quinn Fabray and her minions.

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><p>The days passed uneventfully. Rachel quickly learned her place in school. It was roughly somewhere near the bottom of the hypothetical food chain McKinley had going. She was below most of the cliques, but she was higher than that creepy kid Jacob Ben Israel and that senior girl who ate her own hair. William McKinley was nothing like her old school, and Rachel found she was missing it more than she thought she would.<p>

There was one thing that McKinley had over ChiArts though; here, she had friends. She was pleased to find that she shared several classes with Kurt and Mercedes, and that made life a bit easier. She had never bothered making friends in Chicago. She was normally too wrapped up in improving her own talents—not that she had much to improve upon. She was also slightly concerned that her friends might become jealous of her obvious superiority.

She never imagined having friends could feel so…good.

The first time she had been slushied, they had been there for her. Mercedes helping her get the red food colouring out of her eyes (Kurt was right, it stung terribly), and Kurt was able to teach her the proper technique in removing the stain it left. Now, whenever she got a free slushie facial, which was fairly often, she knew what to do and she even began keeping spare clothes in her locker in case. It did not make the experience any less unpleasant, but she could deal with it.

It was not until she was tossed into a dumpster outside the cafeteria with Kurt did she truly grow frustrated. Kurt had told her that he contented himself in the knowledge that someday, those bullies would be _his_ underlings.

Two weeks had passed since the school year began, and she had not come closer to her goal of small town stardom. A glee club with only three members was just not good enough, especially when Mr. Schue had informed them that they need twelve members to compete.

What was it people said about the best laid plans? Because right now, she felt she should have been closer to her goal. Glee club was supposed to be her solace in this bleak atmosphere, but it felt like another disappointment. She comforted herself in hopes that she just needed more time.

Rachel sat in the choir room with Kurt and Mercedes as they waited for their director to arrive. Will Schuester had proven to be decent teacher and club director, although he seemed a little out of touch with his students. At the last club meeting, they had argued with him on what songs to sing. He had wanted them to sing a song that was popular back in his high school days, while the actual club wanted to sing something more…_contemporary_.

Mr. Schuester walked in now, ten minutes late, a new record for him. The only thing different about it that day, however, was that someone was with him. Trailing behind the teacher was a boy in a red-and-white letterman jacket. He was very tall with brown hair and eyes. He stood awkwardly shuffling his feet and keeping his hands in his jacket pockets and avoiding eye contact.

"Good news, everybody," Mr. Schue addressed the club members, "We have a new member!" Will gave the boy a friendly smile and told him to introduce himself.

The boy shuffled his feet again. "Um," he started, "My name is Finn Hudson. I'm the quarterback of the football team. Mr. Schue overheard me singing in the showers and said he wouldn't tell anyone about the marijua—"

"Thank you, Finn!" interrupted Mr. Schue quickly. "Regardless of the circumstances that brought you here, we're all glad that you joined."

He was quarterback of the football team? The same football team that slushied her and threw her in the trash? This was another hiccup in her plan for stardom. Yet, it could prove to be a good thing, she reasoned. Rachel could always look on the positive side of things. He was cute. He was popular, and therefore might make glee club more appealing to other students. He was cute. He was good singer. He was cute. He would make an excellent duet partner. He was cute.

Yes, he should not damage her plans after all.

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><p><strong>Fun fact:<strong> Rachel is correct - ChiArts _is_ a real high school. Because I have never been there, I apologize for any inaccuracies in its description.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **

Edit-Although this story mostly chronicles Rachel's and the Unholy Trinity's (delightfully dysfunctional) friendship, Faberry is now totally endgame. I find I cannot write a straight character to save my life unless it's a male.

I also would like to go on record as saying that Blaine's street clothes make him look like a ventriloquist dummy. Sorry, Blaine fans.

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: Lunch with Jezebel<strong>

Unsurprisingly, life remained the same for Rachel and her fellow gleeks. In the two weeks since Finn Hudson joined New Directions, she had been slushied roughly six times and tossed into a dumpster twice. Finn had proved to be a relatively nice guy; he spoke to her often in glee club meetings. He was not as good at singing as she was, but she doubted anyone matched her talent. However, their voices blended nicely when they sang duets together. But as much as he seemed to like her, he never stood up for her when his fellow footballers bullied her.

Despite his reluctance to speak to her outside glee, Rachel still found herself attracted to his goofy, yet clueless ways. So she flirted the only way she knew how: through the duets sung between them. She loved to pick songs that were romantic or playful to perform together in front of the club. Though, he seemed oblivious toward her advances. But Rachel Berry was never one for giving up easily.

It was lunch time presently, and Rachel was carrying her tray to her usual table with Kurt and Mercedes when she was stopped by someone.

"Rumour on the streets says that you and Finn Hudson are…_involved_," said an odd-looking boy with glasses and big, fluffy, curly brown hair. It was that Jacob Ben Israel guy who ran an internet gossip blog all about McKinley. Rachel found him creepy.

"That is an absolute lie," Rachel said impatiently, stamping her foot for effect. "Finn and I are friends and fellow glee club members; nothing more."

"But—" he started but she was already walking away. He followed after her. "But I have a very reliable source confirming that—"

"Is he bothering you?"

Rachel looked to her right to find the Unholy Trinity sitting at a lunch table. Quinn was looking directly at her.

The short brunette nodded, "Yeah, actually."

"Jacob," the blonde cheerleader addressed the boy, "why are you such a skeeze? Just leave the poor girl alone." Quinn's angelic expression hardened then and turned into a glare.

The blogger hesitated.

The head Cheerio grew impatient. "I'd suggest you leave unless you want me to send Santana to hurt you."

The Latina beside her started to stand up, but before she was upright, Jacob was gone.

"Thanks," Rachel gave the three cheerleaders a polite smile.

"No problem," replied Quinn, her angelic expression was back. "Sit down."

Rachel cast a confused glance toward her friends who looked equally puzzled. Then, deciding it was better to obey Quinn Fabray than get on her bad side, Rachel took a seat opposite of Quinn and her two minions.

The blonde studied her for a few heartbeats. "Why haven't I seen you here before?"

"Oh, I moved here from Chicago when one of my dads got a job transfer."

"Interesting," Quinn replied, her voice contemplating as though she were deep in thought.

"Is it really windy there?" asked the taller blonde, Brittany.

Before Rachel could reply, Quinn asked more questions.

"How athletic are you?"

The short girl remained silent, slightly taken aback by the question. "Well, I've been taking ballet and gymnastics since I could walk."

Quinn seemed to reflect upon that statement. Then she looked back at her. "You're really pretty. Guys, isn't she pretty?"

"Totally," Brittany smiled widely, her blue eyes filled with honesty.

Santana, on the other hand, sneered and looked Rachel up and down before seeming to come to a conclusion. "Yeah, she would be if she dressed like a normal person instead of dressing like a fantasy of a perverted Japanese business man with a dark, specific fetish."

_Wow_. Rachel looked down at her dark green reindeer sweater and plaid skirt. What was wrong with the way she dressed? "Um, thank you," she smiled awkwardly.

"So you agree?" Quinn asked, smirking. "You think you're really pretty?"

"Oh, um," Rachel stammered. How did this conversation get here?

Quinn appeared to take that as agreement. She leaned forward onto the lunch table and smiled at the shorter brunette. "Rachel, is it?" she asked. At Rachel's nod, she continued, "Look, we don't normally do this often, but are you doing anything this afternoon?"

The starlet paused and thought it over. "Well," she faltered slightly, "There is no glee club meeting today, so I guess not…"

Something dark, almost sinister passed over the head cheerleader's eyes at the mention of the glee club so briefly that Rachel thought she had imagined it. Before she could really dwell on that thought, Quinn told her to meet them in the gym after school. Still slightly stunned by this meeting, Rachel nodded and smiled.

"Okay."

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><p>Rachel stood inside McKinley High's gymnasium, shuffling her feet awkwardly. She could not stop Kurt's voice echoing in her head: <em>beware the Cheerios<em>. Part of her wanted to just run away and join Kurt and Mercedes at the mall. The other half, the half she had determined _must_ be masochistic (why else would she want to do this?), wanted to stay and find out what Quinn Fabray wanted with her. So, she stood there in the gymnasium at three o' clock waiting for her luncheon companions to show up.

Worst case scenarios buzzed and flashed through her mind. Humiliations and disasters galore. She saw the newspaper heading already: STUDENT MURDERED BY CHEERLEADERS ON SCHOOLGROUNDS, CHEERLEADERS FOUND NOT GUILTY.

Oh dear Lord, she would never star on Broadway. She would never meet Barbra Streisand. She would never get her Tony awards. No one would remember her for the talented genius she truly is! This was unacceptable. It was unthinkable.

Rachel's frantic thoughts were interrupted by the gym's double doors opening loudly. In swaggered the Unholy Trinity, moving as though they were one. It baffled Rachel that they could be so in-synch with each other. Behind the three Cheerios entered a tall blonde woman wearing a red-and-white track suit. It was one Sue Sylvester, she knew immediately. Maybe the cheerleader coach had brought her older brother Chuck Norris to kill her for breathing too near her precious Cheerios.

"Rachel!" called Quinn pleasantly as though they were best friends already. "I'm glad you made it!" She turned to her two friends, "I told you she would come."

Santana merely rolled her eyes in response and crossed her arms. Brittany continued with her blank stare and vacant smile.

"This had better be good, Q!" barked Coach Sylvester. "I have you know, I've a Bilderberg meeting to attend tonight."

"Don't worry, Coach," Quinn beamed at her superior. "Rachel is exactly what we've been looking for."

"Fine," Sue stated flatly, impatiently tapping her foot. "Let's see what she can do."

Rachel swallowed, unsure of what the two were discussing. "Um, if I may," she inquired hesitantly, "What is going on exactly? What am I supposed to be doing?"

"You're trying out for the Cheerios, Smurfette," Santana answered, her voice laced with irritation.

"So are you going to stand there all day being not-tall," Coach Sylvester snapped, "or are you going to show me your moves?"

Rachel found herself for a lack of words, something that seldom happened. She stared at the four people who watched her with a mixture of interest and boredom. She was supposed to just spring into a routine without any practice or forethought?

Apparently it looked like it.

Rachel took a deep breath and summoned all her training to the front of her mind. Her natural desire to perform kicked in to full throttle as she cart wheeled and flipped; mixing her ballet stances with flips and leaps from gymnastics. She was not sure why she was obeying the cheerleader coach and her head Cheerio, especially with the warning to have nothing to do with the Cheerios still quietly circling her brain. But, her desire to please and to be appreciated as the talented artist she knew she was won over her reasoning and warnings. There was just some big part that was screaming for them to like her.

She felt their eyes on her. She decided to kick it up a notch. She began incorporating more complicated moves, twisting and flipping, springing gracefully around the gymnasium with relative ease to the music in her head. She did another back flip before starting to pirouette when Sue held up a hand for her to stop.

"All right," announced the coach. "You've got talent. Not as much as Brittany does in the dance department, but you'll get better with rigorous training."

Rachel smiled widely at Coach Sylvester's obviously strained compliment.

"You're in," the woman went on to say. "You're in luck too. One of our girls was recently sent to a psychiatric hospital in Columbus for not eating. You're about the same size as she was so you can have her old uniform." She looked to her head Cheerio, "Q, help her out and find her the uniform; I have world leaders to conspire with."

The cheerleader coach left, leaving the four girls alone. Quinn smiled happily and approached Rachel.

"You're one of us now!" she said as though it were the best thing ever. "Come on, we'll get you fitted in a uniform and tell you how we work."

She grabbed Rachel's hand and led her out of the gym and down the hall towards the Cheerios' locker room. Once inside the locker room, Quinn let go of her hand and buzzed about the area excitedly. The short brunette could not help but smile at the Cheerio's enthusiasm. Brittany and Santana soon joined Rachel watching Quinn flit about.

"Okay, this can be your locker," she pointed to locker 704, "And this is you Cheerios duffle bag." She dropped a large red-and-black canvas bag at Rachel's feet. "Inside are your pom-poms and two uniforms, one is sleeveless and the other has long sleeves for winter. There are also two hair scrunchies, one red and one white. You must always wear your hair in a ponytail." She beamed joyfully. "Go try them on!"

Picking up the large bag, Rachel slowly made her way to a more private part of the locker room and changed into the sleeveless cheerleader outfit. It fit quite nicely and felt rather freeing despite being far less modest than what she was used to wearing. Next, she took off her headband and carefully pulled her hair back into the high ponytail she had seen the other Cheerios sporting.

She returned to the group and twirled for them putting on her best award-winning smile.

Quinn grinned smugly as Rachel spun. "God bless the perv who invented these." Her hazel eyes were fixed on Rachel's miniskirt.

Brittany clapped with excitement. "San was so right. You look totally hot now!"

Santana nodded reluctantly; however, Rachel thought she detected shyness rather than irritation in the Latina's dark eyes.

Rachel's smile only increased in size at the approval of the three girls.

"Okay, now that that's done," Quinn started, draping her arm around the shorter girl's shoulder. "Let me tell you how we work." She led the newest Cheerio further back in the locker room. "Here are the showers. You must shower after every practice. No excuses."

Then she led the other girls out into the halls, keeping Rachel firmly in her grasp. The other two of the Unholy Trinity followed on either side. Rachel felt as though she were walking in a dream rather down school hallways. She had never would have guessed this morning she would be joining the Cheerios. But, she actually felt excited to be wearing the iconic uniform of the champion cheer team.

The four girls soon arrived at the football field where Rachel had originally seen them practice.

"You've seen the gym already. We practice there during winter and bad weather and such. In nice weather, we practice outside on the football field. Cheer practice is everyday at 6:30 AM _sharp_. If you're late, you run the same number of laps around the track as the number of minutes you are late to practice," Quinn explained. "Sickness is no excuse unless you've been hospitalized."

"Oh! Oh!" Brittany chirped, "You also have to drink Sue Sylvester's Master Cleanse everyday." The taller blonde's prior excitement faded momentarily. "It tastes like rain water and dog breath, though."

"What's the Sue Sylvester Master Cleanse?" Rachel asked. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed like the day Kurt and Mercedes had explained cliques to her.

The Unholy Trinity exchanged an uncomfortable glance.

"Let's just say it's a protein shake," stated Quinn. There was a short pause. "You must wear your Cheerios uniform everyday, not only at school but everywhere, including but not limited to parties, restaurants, movies, mall, or whatever. Only exception is the weekend."

The cheerleader captain paused again, her face scrunched up deep in thought. "I think I've covered everything for now." Her bright smile returned in full force. "Welcome to the Cheerios, Rachel."


	4. Chapter 4

**I've done alot of thinking since the episode 4 spoilers and I've realized why I can't even all the time. I just have all these feelings. Feelings for Brittana. And I don't want Klaine or Finchel or any of those other pairings. I just want Brittana. Please may tomorrow be November, please...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four: Mixing Oil with Water<strong>

It was pouring rain the next day when Rachel got to school. It was nearly 6:30 as she stretched with the other cheerleaders in the gymnasium. She could hear many of the girls complaining to each other about the weather and early hour. Rachel herself was an early riser. Every morning she woke up at five and went jogging or used her exercise bike before school started. She figured cheer practice would be fairly easy to adjust to as her daily exercise.

"Stupid fucking rain," Santana murmured close by. "God damn this early hour. Why the fuck do we even have a 6:30 AM?" She continued her mumbled rant, mixing English and Spanish curses loudly and vividly.

By the serene yet understanding look Brittany gave her friend, Rachel guessed this was just the routine for the angry brunette.

Rachel glanced up at the clock high up on the gym's wall. It was 6:29. She scanned around the large room, her brown eyes gliding over the sea of red-and-white outfits. There was no sign of the coach or Quinn. Rachel wondered briefly where they could be, after all, Quinn herself told her there was no excuse for being late.

The second the clock struck 6:30, the double doors to the gymnasium boomed opened, making the short brunette jump.

"Good morning, ladies!" said Sue Sylvester as she marched in, Quinn following behind her like a lost puppy. "I've a new number for us to work on, with a few new elements from Fabray's suggestion."

After Coach Sylvester gave her instructions with Quinn demonstrating when necessary, and assigned positions to each cheerleader, practice began. It was grueling. Every few minutes Sue stopped them for one reason or another. The timing was off, someone would run into some else, someone would be late on their cue. It was all very trying to Rachel. She was not at all used to mistakes, yet here she was making just as many as the next girl.

Finally after an hour and a half of repeatedly trying, they got the routine down. Quinn's airy voice danced with the Cheerios with the pumping music as it reverberated inside the gym walls.

"There's only two types of people in the world," the head cheerleader sang. "The ones that entertain and the ones that observe. Well, baby, I'm a put-on-a -show kind of girl. Don't like the backseat, got t' be first."

"I'm like the ringleader, I call the shots," the blonde went on to sing, "I'm like a firecracker, I make it _hot_." She emphasized _hot_ as the Cheerios behind her sprang up and did flips and splits to resemble fireworks.

Quinn smiled haughtily as she continued. "When I put on a show, I feel the adrenaline moving through my veins. Spotlight on me and I'm ready break. I'm like a performer –the dance floor is my stage. Better be ready, hope that you feel the same."

As the head Cheerio reached the chorus, the rest of the girls became more active, spinning and flipping around her chaotically while still retaining some degree of organization.

"All eyes on me in the center of the ring just like a circus. When I crack that whip, everybody gonna trip just like a circus. Don't just stand there watching me, follow me, show me what you can do! Everybody let go! We can make this dance floor just like a circus."

Behind and surrounding Quinn, the Cheerios mimicked a circus. Behind her, some of the girls had assembled into formations that resembled wild beasts, moving together as one unit. To her left, they made themselves appear like dancing Lipizzaner horses, and on the opposite side they created the illusion of a lion being tamed. Even still, there were cheerleaders in the background being flipped and flung high up to look like trapeze artists.

"I run a tight ship—_so beware_," Quinn smirked as she sung, her light voice taking on a slight edge.

The faux circus continued its show as she moved into the second chorus. Rachel was beginning to feel out of breath as she kept up her horse act. Quinn, on the other hand, the shorter cheerleader observed, had no problem keeping up this tempo as she sang and strutted around her makeshift big top.

"I'm runnin' this…L-L-L-like a circus!"

The song was coming to its end. Quinn started walking backwards and started climbing up a large formation that almost resembled an elephant, her voice echoing throughout the gymnasium all the while. At the top of the formation, the song reached its finish and the blonde belted out the last of the lyrics.

"…Just like a circus!"

The music stopped. Brittany punctuated the moment with one last flip on her pretend trapeze that made Rachel wonder if the girl were part sock monkey. The girls remained in their positions, trying to hide their panting and sheer exhaustion.

Coach Sylvester held her megaphone to her mouth to make a comment, but as she took a breath she was interrupted by a low moan on the bleachers behind her.

"Oh God…"

Sitting on bleachers was none other then Jacob Ben Israel. He had a strange expression on his face, looking somewhere between sickness and elation. The odd boy was shivering visibly and he muttered to himself.

"So hot…" he mumbled after another muffled groan.

"Oh hell no!" cried the coach. "I refuse to instigate another Britney Spears sex riot!"

She stomped over to the bothered boy and picked him up by the collar of his shirt. "How the hell did you even get in here?" she demanded.

"Uh, um…" Jacob stuttered, his face flushed, "I hid in the supply closet."

"Get out!" Sue shouted while dragging him and literally throwing him out of the gym. When she got back to her cheerleaders, she announced they would not being doing any more Britney Spears songs with their routines. "I don't want to relive Homecoming halftime of '01."

* * *

><p>Later, as Rachel toweled off from showering, she spotted Quinn doing the same. The brunette took a deep breath, and made her way over to the head Cheerio. She tapped the flaxen-haired girl on the shoulder gently and gave her a friendly smile.<p>

"I must say," she began, "You did an excellent job earlier with that song. I didn't know you were a singer."

Quinn grinned back, showing off her perfect white teeth. "I know, right? I enjoyed it a lot even if Jewfro totally bombed the ending."

"The pervert," Santana growled nearby. Brittany stood next to her, looking equally disgusted with the peeping Tom from the performance.

"At least we won't be doing any more Britney Spears music," mentioned the taller blonde. "I don't like her much."

Quinn rolled her eyes at her minion's statement, while Santana looked rather sympathetic and nodded.

"Why not?" Rachel asked, curious. The singer seemed like someone the dancer would be a fan.

Brittany cast her gaze downward, suddenly finding the floor quite interesting. She took a breath and glanced up at Santana for support before saying, "Well, I've always felt that I live in her shadow. We have the same name."

Rachel tilted her head in confusion.

"See, my middle name is Susan and my last name is Pierce. So my full name is Brittany S. Pierce—Brittany Spierce. Get it? So I'll never get the same recognition as her. I may never be as big as the original Britney Spears, even though I'm more talented than her."

"Oh," Rachel replied, finding the taller girl's reasoning rather odd. "I see, I guess."

The four cheerleaders finished cleaning themselves up after practice and headed for the locker room door. Holding the door open, Quinn paused and smiled at Rachel.

"You're joining us for lunch today."

It was command, Rachel realized, not an invitation or question. So, the newest Cheerio nodded as the three cheerleaders stepped into the hallway.

"You know," Rachel said before heading to her own class, "If you enjoyed singing today, you should join the glee club! It's kind of like cheerleading, only with more singing and dancing and fewer pom-poms."

Again, at the mention of the glee club, Rachel swore she saw something menacing behind Quinn's eyes. But it was gone so quickly that it could have been a trick of the light. The starlet gave an encouraging smile, "Just think about it!"

Then she left as the bell rang to start first period.

* * *

><p>Rachel could feel eyes on her as she picked at her salad that afternoon. Eating lunch with the Unholy Trinity reminded her of dining with celebrities. Many students stole glances of them as they ate, some of the girls even mimicked their movements. The short brunette felt a warm glow inside her when she noticed two freshman girls casting envious looks at her.<p>

They ate quietly. Brittany and Santana seemed to be in their own private world together as they stole bites of each other's food, while Quinn ate calmly reading the novel beside her tray. The four sat at their own table near the other Cheerios; however, the other cheerleaders seemed to try to pack into the tables farthest away from the Trinity first before trickling in closer to the group. It made Rachel curious if the other Cheerios preferred to stay away from the three out of respect or out of fear.

Sitting next to Quinn, the petite starlet peered over the slightly taller girl's shoulder. Once she spotted Kurt and Mercedes sitting on the other side of the cafeteria, she smiled and sent them a friendly wave. The duo replied with bewildered expressions, obviously still confused as to why she was with the Unholy Trinity. She made a mental note to tell them at the glee rehearsal later.

Her attention was drawn back her own table when a cheerleader approached them cautiously. Her green gaze dropped to the floor when the four noticed her presence.

"Yes?" Quinn addressed the nameless girl in a most business-like manner.

The Cheerio ran her fingers through her auburn ponytail nervously and hesitantly met the hazel stare of the cheer captain. "Okay, so I think my boyfriend is cheating on me with Monica because Gwen told me that Miranda said that Kelly heard that Lisa saw Kyle totally making out with Monica at Azimio's party last weekend."

The words spilled out of her mouth so fast that Rachel had to pause and take a breath herself.

Quinn remained silent for a few moments, studying the girl before them intently.

"And have you spoken to Kyle about this?"

"Yes," the cheerleader confirmed. "But he said he didn't but I think he did because Monica has been walking around with this totally bitchy look all week."

Again, the captain was silent, appearing rather pensive. She then whipped out her iPhone and began texting someone. Once finished she looked up and smirked. "Monica won't be messing around with other people's boyfriends anymore."

There was an audible gasp from a few tables down. A dark-haired cheerleader stood up, staring at her cell phone before locking eyes with Quinn. The blonde met the other girl's stare with a deadly glare and a raised eyebrow. The darker girl then swiftly left the cafeteria in a huff.

Quinn rolled her eyes at the girl's departure. "Monica should know the rule by now that Cheerios are not to mess with other Cheerios' boyfriends. Cheerios are a unit and must remain in harmony with each other with as little drama as possible." The blonde quoted one of Coach Sylvester's many sayings.

"Thank you, Quinn," said the redhead gratefully.

The head cheerleader nodded and the other Cheerio scurried away back to her own friends.

After a pause, Rachel asked curiously, "What did you say to her in your text?"

"Oh, I just reminded Monica who controls where she is in the pyramid and if she were to break one of our rules she'd be on the bottom row holding up Harriet Henderson," answered Quinn nonchalantly.

"But isn't Harriet one of the heaviest girls on the team?"

Quinn smirked devilishly, "Exactly."

Rachel could not help but admire their leader.

"Being on the Cheerios reminds me of being in the mafia," the starlet commented.

"You were in the mafia?" asked Brittany, looking up from her meal in astonishment.

Rachel gaped slightly, taken aback. "No, I simply meant that the Cheerios reminded me of the mafia."

"Oh, we're not the mafia," Brittany explained seriously, "We're just a highly structured society with strict rules."

Santana nodded in agreement, "With severe consequences if you break those rules."

"Oh, I see the difference now," Rachel responded slowly, not actually understanding the difference.

She made another mental note to never break the strict rules the Unholy Trinity set up for the Cheerios as she finished her dry salad.

* * *

><p>The final bell rang, and Rachel was heading for the choir room. Kurt and Mercedes were already waiting inside, deep in conversation. They looked over to her as the door clicked shut.<p>

"So, it's true," Kurt said as he took in the sight of her red-and-white outfit. "You really did join the Cheerios." He held his nose up pretentiously and fixed his hair.

"After all we taught you," Mercedes scolded, "What the hell were you thinking, girl? You _know_ they be evil!"

Rachel suddenly felt as though she were on a scaffold awaiting her punishment. She swallowed and smiled nervously. "It's not that I didn't listen to your warnings, it's just that Quinn didn't seem so bad. I mean, she got rid of that Jacob Israel guy who was harassing me yesterday and then invited me to join the Cheerios." She took a breath.

"'Oh, she doesn't seem so bad'?" Mercedes mocked. "Listen to you! This is Quinn Fabray we're talking about! She might not appear to be evil on the outside. But believe me when I say, she won't hesitate to throw you under a bus if it'll benefit her. She's a life-ruiner!"

"But—"

"No, Mercedes is right," Kurt interrupted her protest. "She's just using you, and when she's finished with you; you'll be trashed."

Rachel felt her spirits dampen. Quinn treated her so nicely. How could she be considered evil? Besides, she enjoyed Cheerios practice this morning. It was exhausting, but invigorating. It made her feel as though she were already a professional performer on stage, a star. Just being with the Unholy Trinity at lunch made her feel like a celebrity. Joining the Cheerios might just even help her career on Broadway, giving her extra practice with all the effort required from the cheerleaders. Cheerios could even be the key to success! After all, they were five time national champions, she reasoned.

"I enjoy being a Cheerio," Rachel replied softly, half hoping her friends would not hear her.

Kurt and Mercedes glanced at each other before giving her a look of sympathy and pity. Before Rachel could defend herself more, Finn walked in.

"Hi, Finn!" the short girl exclaimed brightly, her mood lifting.

He grinned back and sat next to her. "Hey, Rachel. Wow, you look nice. I didn't know you were a cheerleader. I mean, uh, I heard you joined but you didn't seem the type to—um, well, it's not like you're not the type who could be—"

Rachel laughed slightly and stopped him. "Thank you, Finn. And yes, I joined yesterday."

"Awesome."

The two smiled at each other.

Mr. Schuester entered next, a big grin on his face as well. _"¡Hola, clase!"_ He held up some music sheets as he walked. "I've found the perfect Journey song for us to sing." He was obviously excited by this prospect.

The four students looked unimpressed.

"Oh, come on, guys!" he insisted. "It's a classic and it'll be fun. I bet—" He stopped when he heard the door creak open. "Welcome! Can I help you, girls?"

"Hello, Mr. Schue," greeted none other than Quinn Fabray. Coming in after her were Brittany and Santana, pinkies linked as they stood off to her side. "We were hoping to audition for glee club, if you don't mind. Finn is my boyfriend, after all, and what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't join him in his newfound passion?" She smiled innocently.

Will's grin only got bigger. "That would excellent, ladies! You can try-out right now."

Brittany gave a little bounce and pulled a CD out from somewhere Rachel was afraid to think about. The tall blonde went over to the piano and put the CD in its player and rejoined her two friends. Mr. Schue hit the play button.

The sound of piano began. The three girls started swaying their hips in some simple choreography.

"The moment I wake up," Quinn sang sweetly. "Before I put on make up," she mimed the action of putting on make up. "I say a little prayer for you."

Santana and Brittany sang back up harmonies for their blonde leader. They did a few simple dance moves behind Quinn as she sang.

"Forever and ever you'll stay in my heart," the head cheerleader continued. "And I will love you forever and ever, we will never part. Oh, how I love you!" Quinn sung as though her voice were bathed in honey, her expression matching her tone. "Together, forever that's how it must be. To live without you would only be heartbreak for me!"

The song came to a finish. Quinn beamed and tilted her head toward Mr. Schuester, awaiting his response.

"Girls, that was lovely," the director praised, "Welcome to the team!"

"Thank you, Mr. Schue," the blonde smirked, her hazel eyes glimmering with an emotion Rachel could not name.

Quinn pranced over and took a seat behind Rachel. "Now we're both in Cheerios and glee! Isn't it great? We're going to friends, best friends." Her voice was dripping with enthusiasm. She draped her arms around Finn's shoulders affectionately as she smiled at Rachel.

"Definitely, we could use more members," Rachel nodded, returning Quinn's bright grin. However, she felt her heart lurch at the loving display between the cheerleader and quarterback. Finn had never mentioned a girlfriend. This would put a strain on her plans for winning her love interest.

Rachel's attention turned to her original friends speaking quietly to each other beside her.

"Oh hell to the no," Mercedes whispered to Kurt. "Cheerios and glee do not go together. It's like mixing water with oil: it just doesn't work."

The boy gave a subtle nod. His tone took a dark turn. "I have to agree. I can only sense impending doom."

Rachel suppressed a shiver from their ominous words. She tried to convince herself that the two were wrong, they were just being over-dramatic. Cheerleading and glee were not all that different; just two different ways of expressing oneself. Yes, it was just like at her old school. They were all artists here. They could all get along and be a team. They would be a team and she would be its star player just like she had always planned, had always dreamed. The Unholy Trinity joining New Directions would only bring good things for the club. More members will sign up. Glee would be popular. She repeated the reasons over and over in her head.

Outside, she could hear the rain continuing to patter against the school's roof and a gentle rumble of thunder punctuated her thoughts. It was quite symbolic and well timed was all she could think.

* * *

><p>It was after school presently and Rachel sat in the Lima Bean, taking a sip of her coffee, as she waited for Kurt and Mercedes to join her. The trio had met at the coffee shop after school every day, and the petite girl could feel her allowance being sucked from her every time she set foot inside the café. But it was worth every penny, she was quick to remind herself, as the caffeine set in during those sluggish hours of the afternoon.<p>

The entry bell chimed and Rachel spotted her two friends and waved them over. Once they had ordered their own drinks, the duo joined her.

"So, what's up with you and the Cheerios?" Mercedes asked as she blew the steam that was rising from her coffee.

Sometimes Rachel hated how blunt the diva could be.

"Not to mention that you've had lunch with the Unholy Trinity two days in a row now," Kurt added, "You do know they don't normally take to newcomers?" He took a sip from his tea. "So, spill. How in the world did this start?"

The starlet told her companions everything that had happened over the two days.

"So let me get this straight," Mercedes said once Rachel had finished. "Quinn _asked_ you to join?"

The cheerleader nodded.

"And she wanted you to join them for lunch too?"

She nodded again at the baffled duo. "Is that so strange?" the smaller girl asked.

"Well, Sue Sylvester only holds auditions every few years," Kurt explained, "It's blood in, blood out."

Rachel felt her confusion rising again. "But what does that have to do with Quinn or the Trinity?"

"The Unholy Trinity is tightly knit. It's the cliquey-est clique to have ever cliqued. They don't just invite strangers into their circle for no reason," the boy continued. "Even if she appears nice, Quinn always has an underhanded reason for what she does." He took a long sip of his coffee.

"How do you know?" the petite girl inquired hesitantly, "I mean, what if they like me? They act friendly with me, well except Santana calls me insulting nicknames. But she insults everyone so I guess that means she likes me. I got them to join glee club, so they obviously listen to me."

"Yeah, about that," Mercedes replied slowly, "Why did they join glee? It's not exactly a popular or cool thing to do."

Rachel answered immediately, smiling. "Well, Cheerios practice this morning had Quinn sing a Britney Spears song and she said she enjoyed singing it so I suggested that she join glee club."

"And it has nothing to do with the fact that her boyfriend of forever is in glee?" Mercedes quirked an eyebrow curiously, "And it has nothing to do with the rumours going around about you and Finn getting all flirty together during rehearsals?"

The starlet deflated. She had heard what was being said about her and Finn's musical tryst ever since he joined New Directions. She guessed the playful duets between her and the quarterback did not help deter the gossip.

"But she's been nice to me." Rachel muttered, despite her feeling of defeat. "Even if she's only pretending to be my friend, I'm glad I joined the Cheerios."

"You enjoy sweating and being verbally abused?" Kurt smiled slyly.

The brunette stared into her reflection in her coffee. "Well, no, not that part. But I like performing even though Coach Sylvester has yet to recognize my superior talents. I think the Cheerios' painstaking obligation for absolute perfection may even aid me in the near future when I become a Broadway star."

There was long pause before Mercedes questioned her. "And you think cheerleading will help you get on Broadway?"

"Being in something special makes you special," she replied.

Her friends looked skeptical.

"And you feel this way after only being in Cheerios _one_ day?" the diva asked, incredulous.

Rachel nodded, unsure of why her friends could not understand her logic. "Well, you have to rehearse for grueling numbers of hours and the directors and such may be surly and have unreasonable demands on their performers. With Cheerios, I'd already have some practice on dealing with that kind of pressure."

She frowned in frustration when the duo merely exchanged a glance. "What do you have against Cheerios, anyway?"

"It's a long, humiliating story of betrayal," Kurt started. He shrunk slightly when the diva glared at him warningly. "However, Mercedes and I have sworn an oath to never speak of it again," he added hastily.

"But—"

"An oath, Rachel! We swore an oath," the boy snapped impatiently. "I, for one, do not break my promises."

She dropped her questions, deciding to silence her curiosity with a swig of coffee.

Mercedes sighed, "Look, if being a cheerleader makes you happy, then we won't stop you. Just be careful around the Unholy Trinity."

The three of them finished their drinks and the trio got up to leave. Rachel followed her two companions more slowly, watching them drive away in Kurt's jeep. She made a dash for her car, trying to stay dry in the steady rain. She let out her own troubled sigh as she drove towards her house. The starlet wished they had told her why they held such distain for the Cheerios and Unholy Trinity. If they would not tell her, then fine, she thought with irritation.

She was intelligent enough to know when someone was using her. Certainly then, whatever happened to them that made the two so cynical would never happen to her. As she pulled up to her driveway, she decided there would be no harm in befriending Unholy Trinity.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Change of plans, Faberry is now endgame.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five: Devil or Angel?<strong>

It was mid October, just over a week after Rachel joined the Cheerios. Everyday, she joined Quinn, Santana, and Brittany for lunch. She hung out with them during cheer practice and even during glee. The short brunette had a hard time believing Kurt and Mercedes about just how evil the Unholy Trinity was; they had their mean streaks and were bossy in the halls, but she did not think they were life-ruiners like Mercedes claimed.

Rachel entered McKinley feeling quite jovial. It was a beautiful day, cheer practice had gone well. No one had been injured, and Coach Sylvester only berated her performance three times that day. She had to admit, training with Sue was difficult and not at all for the weak-hearted. She was a harsh critic that demanded perfection and anything less was sinful. Her words were sharp and Rachel had felt like crying many times after Coach's tongue lashings. However, when Sue Sylvester gave praise, one knew she actually meant it. The women never complimented lightly.

One of the best perks of being a Cheerio, the starlet was discovering, was the respect she received from other students. No longer was she just another nameless face floating through the halls of McKinley. People knew her name. She was that new Cheerio, Rachel Berry. You know, that new girl that Quinn discovered. Rachel felt like a celebrity whenever she ate or walked with the Unholy Trinity. Everyone stopped and stared where ever the four cheerleaders went. The small Cheerio imagined the other students bowing down in wonder as the Unholy Trinity approached.

No one bullied her anymore. Wearing the Cheerios uniform was like wearing a bulletproof vest. She felt invincible with it. No one could touch her or else they faced punishment from Quinn Fabray. It still delighted her whenever she saw Karofsky or Azimio or some other jock had a slushie in their hands and it was not for her. It was with great pleasure that she brought her spare sweater home the day before. No longer would she get tossed into the dumpsters or shoved into lockers. In fact, she thought some of the jocks picked on geeks just to impress her.

She was somebody now.

She was well on her way to being a star.

Life was good.

She strutted down the crowded halls of William McKinley. Well, she smirked to herself, crowded for everyone else. For her, she was like Moses parting the Red Sea, the teens automatically cleared out of her way.

She opened her locker, getting books for her first class, when she heard a commotion nearby. She turned and saw a small swarm of students. She swiftly made her way over and waded through the throngs of teenagers and immediately saw what held everyone's attention.

Kurt was leaning against his locker, red slushie dripping down his face. He gasped with the cold and wiped it out of his eyes. Rachel looked around for the perpetrator and found Karofsky holding the empty cup.

"That colour is absolutely fabulous on you, fag!" jeered the burly footballer as he escaped the crime scene.

Rachel stood as frozen as the slushie covering her friend's face. She had thought now that some Cheerios and the school quarterback had joined glee club that it was considered cooler to be a gleek. But apparently she had been wrong. She might not have been bullied these past few days, but her friends still had trouble. She watched silently as Kurt glanced her way before letting Mercedes lead him into the girl's restroom to wash off.

The bell rang and she scrambled to her first period, deciding there was nothing she could do for Kurt at the moment.

* * *

><p>"We need a new name for us," Brittany thought aloud.<p>

"What are you talking about, B?" Santana asked, turning to the blonde.

Rachel sat with them and Quinn at their usual lunch table. The petite cheerleader picked at her salad, it was the only vegan-friendly meal at this school. Quinn sat across from her, silently listening to the discussion Brittany and Santana started.

"Well, we're called the Unholy Trinity, right?" said Brittany before swallowing her chicken nugget, "The Unholy _Trinity_."

"So?" Santana tilted her head in confusion.

Brittany stole a french fry from the Latina's lunch tray before continuing. "Well, 'trinity' means three, but we're not _three_ anymore—we're _four_ now that Rachel joined us. " She took another fry from her friend. "We need a new name now," the dancer concluded.

"Man-hands doesn't count," Santana argued, "She's a dwarf so she only counts as half a person. So we're three-and-a-half."

Rachel's gaze fell to her hands. She never understood why Santana used that nickname for her. Her hands were not manly in her opinion. But, she knew better than to protest this time. Despite being a member of their circle, Santana still insisted on calling Rachel by insulting nicknames. The first time the taller brunette called her by that demeaning slur, Rachel had argued.

She had just gotten rid of the bruise on her shoulder from that quarrel.

The starlet kept quiet and let the two discuss as though she were not sitting right in front them by shoving another forkful of lettuce into her mouth.

"I suppose that could work," Brittany replied, "But we'd still be more than three." She took a sip from her milk, her face scrunched up in thought. "I think we should be the Unholy Quartet."

Santana seemed to be thinking it over quite seriously. She shrugged and grabbed a chicken nugget off Brittany's tray. "I guess that doesn't sound too bad," the Latina conceded.

"I don't care what we call ourselves," Quinn spoke up for the first time since the debate started, looking slightly irritated. "We could call ourselves 'The Fungus Foursome' and we'd still be the most powerful girls in this school." Her voice, usually sweet and ethereal, held an arrogant edge to it.

Rachel reflected on that thought. They did hold much respect from students and even some teachers. No one dared to cross them. Many jocks sought permission from Quinn on whom they could slushie. The petite brunette suddenly thought of Kurt dripping in red slushie that morning.

"I don't think we should let the glee club members be slushied anymore," Rachel said timidly.

Santana sneered. "Why? They're gleeks and we're Cheerios. They're beneath us. It's practically against the law for us to _not_ harass them."

"Well," she defended her position, "We're all members of the glee club—so that makes us gleeks too. And Coach Sylvester always talks about respecting teammates."

"Coach means respecting other _Cheerios_," quarreled Santana, "not Broadway wannabes."

"But glee club is cool," Rachel argued.

"Rachel, that's not nice," Brittany scolded.

Before the squabble could continue, Quinn held up her hand for silence.

"Rachel has a point," the leader declared. "We're members of glee now. That makes it cool. _And_, that means the other gleeks are off limits." She pulled out her phone and began texting someone.

The starlet watched curiously. "What are you doing?"

"I'm texting Sabrina," Quinn explained, "who'll tell Amanda who'll tell Jenna who'll tell the entire world that gleeks are to no longer be bullied." She smiled smugly and put her iPhone away when she finished.

Rachel smiled brightly at the head Cheerio. Kurt and Mercedes would be safe from bullying by Quinn's decree. Her friends were insane to think Quinn was some sort of devil in disguise.

* * *

><p>It was Friday night a week later, and Rachel found herself in the room downstairs at Brittany's house with the rest of the Unholy Quartet (as Brittany had been calling their clique since that lunchroom debate).<p>

It was quite cozy, she had to admit. The carpet was soft and the room was rather private. There was a fireplace and a dusty foosball table. The four of them sat on the sofa and chairs watching a cheap horror movie on TV. They all still wore their Cheerios uniform, just like the unwritten rule stated, however Santana had let her hair down as she rested her head on Brittany's shoulder. The two of them had claimed the couch while Rachel and Quinn found a couple of old recliners to relax on. When a commercial break came on TV, Quinn broke the silence.

"So," the blonde cheerleader began, "Puckerman is having a party at his place on Halloween. You guys up for going?"

Brittany and Santana exchanged a glance. Brittany bit her lip and looked apologetic.

"Sorry, Q," she mumbled, "San and I are taking my little sister trick-or-treating because my parents will be out of town."

The leader rolled her hazel eyes in irritation. "Fine, Berry here knows how to have fun. You want to come with me?"

Rachel stammered, not sure how she wanted to answer yet.

"Wait, hold up, Barbie." Santana saved the shorter brunette from replying. "I thought you and your folks usually do some shitty 'anti-Halloween' party at your church every year?"

Quinn glared at Santana who mirrored her expression. "Yes, we do _normally_ have some party at church, but this year I'm not helping because I don't want to go." She turned her attention back to Rachel, "So, Rach, you never gave me an answer. Party at Puck's?"

Rachel shifted in her recliner uncomfortably. "Well, as far as I know, parties are nothing but booze, drugs, sex, and loud music."

"That's why it's called 'a party', fun-size," the Latina smirked.

"My dads probably wouldn't approve of such actions and besides, Halloween is on a school night. I wouldn't want to show up for cheer practice hung over. So I am sorry, Quinn, but I'm going to have to decline you invitation," Rachel rambled as quickly as her breath allowed it.

Quinn huffed and folded her arms over her chest. "Boo, you losers."

Brittany glanced over to Santana. "You could come trick-or-treating with us, Rachel," the tall blonde said, looking slightly nervous over at the still fuming head cheerleader.

The starlet stole a peak at Quinn as well, but the blonde was obviously trying to ignore them. "I've never been trick-or-treating before, to be honest," Rachel admitted sheepishly. "My dads thought it was too dangerous in our old neighbourhood."

At that, Santana was sitting up and alert. "What?" she cried in disbelief. "Halloween is like one of the best fuckin' times of the year. You go out; you get free food."

"Ha," Quinn muttered, "You do that every time you and Britt go to Breadstix."

"True," the Latina grinned deviously, "But on Halloween it's legal." She fixed her dark eyes on Rachel. "Forget whatever plans you had—you's be comin' with Britts and me for some trick-or-treatin'."

Brittany gave a huge smile. "We're going as zombie cheerleaders!"

Rachel returned the taller girl's excitement. "That sounds outstanding."

The conversation ended and the four turned their attention back on the movie just in time to watch a sorority girl get hacked up by some guy with a hatchet.

* * *

><p>Time passed uneventfully and Rachel found herself eager for school to end. It was Halloween and that meant that she, Brittany, and Santana were going trick-or-treating. She knew it was probably silly, but she was still very excited. Her apartment back in Chicago was located in a less-than-satisfactory area and her protective dads felt uneasy about letting her go out at night.<p>

She stretched with the other cheerleaders on the football field. Nearby she could hear Santana whining to Brittany about the early hour and chill breeze and anything else that upset her; nothing unusual there. Quinn, on the other hand, had been quiet this morning, not evening sparing a reprimand when one of the Cheerios showed up with a dirty uniform. She was usually barking commands or scolding the other cheerleaders. She stood apart from the group, brooding, hardly moving even though she was supposed to be warming up with everyone. The blonde seemed lost in thought, her body tense.

Before Rachel could ask what was wrong with her friend, Coach Sylvester showed up and it was time for practice to begin.

Practice did not go so well. Quinn was just as distracted as she was when they were doing their warm up exercises. The head Cheerio tripped, fell, and wobbled. After an hour of many mistakes and a domino-styled fall, Sue exploded at the distant girl.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she roared. "Too much early-Halloween candy weighing you down? The girl I chose to be my head Cheerio wouldn't have screwed up this many times! If it wouldn't get me suspended I'd lean you over my knee right now and spank you until you couldn't sit for a month!"

"Wanky," muttered Santana to Brittany.

Luckily, Rachel thought, Sue did not overhear the comment. The petite cheerleader was not even the object of scorn and she still felt terrified of impending punishment. She admired Quinn for taking the rebuke with such a blank face. It reminded her of the expression Brittany had in class.

Quinn stood as stiffly as a soldier and stared at the coach. "I'm sorry, Coach. I guess I'm just distracted today."

"Just get out of my sight," Sue snapped, appearing to ignore the girl's apology. "All of you! Practice is over for today. I don't want to see any of you the rest of the day! The next cheerleader I see will be cut from the team!" She turned back to Quinn, "And as for you, you'd better be more focused or don't bother showing up tomorrow."

The cheerleaders scattered like cockroaches under a light, none wanting to further provoke Sue Sylvester.

* * *

><p>She sat in the choir room that afternoon. Kurt and Mercedes sat next to her, discussing their plans for the evening. She thought she heard the name Alfred Hitchcock, but Rachel was only half-listening. She was too busy casting nervous glances toward Quinn.<p>

The blonde had barely spoken all day, not even at lunch. It was very unusual for the cheerleader captain to be so quiet, but as Rachel reflected on her clique leader's behaviour the past few days, she realized that Quinn had been rather quiet and pensive then too.

The blonde Cheerio currently sat between Finn and Puck, looking slightly contrite and uncomfortable.

Rachel was surprised when Noah "Puck" Puckerman joined glee club the previous week, along with his fellow football players Mike Chang and Sam Evans. Mike was even able to get his girlfriend, Tina, to join. Rachel never learned of why they had wanted to join New Directions, but she had seen Puck casting furtive glances at Quinn during each rehearsal.

The mohawked jock was doing just that presently. The starlet could not read his expression, but one word came to her mind whenever she saw him look Quinn's way: _conflicted_.

Rachel was interrupted in her character studies by a swift kick to the shin. She looked over to find Mercedes staring at her.

"Earth to Rachel," said the diva, "I just asked if you had plans for tonight. Kurt and I are having a movie fest. You wanna come?"

"She can't," Brittany piped in behind Mercedes. "She's coming with Santana and me trick-or-treating—we're taking my li'l sister." She gestured to the Latina who was currently braiding the tall cheerleader's hair.

Rachel smiled awkwardly. "I'm sorry, maybe another time."

Mercedes sneered and turned back to Kurt, who rolled his eyes. The petite brunette heard Kurt mutter "figures she'd choose them."

Rachel frowned. Her friendship had been strained with those two ever since she joined the Cheerios. But she enjoyed cheerleading too much to quit. Or perhaps she just liked the status that came with being a Cheerio.

* * *

><p>Rachel sat in the living room of Brittany's house waiting for Santana to finish doing her make up. The starlet watched as Brittany fussed with Bridget's hair. Bridget, Brittany's seven year old sister, squirmed impatiently as her older sister mussed her blonde hair. They were all sporting their Cheerios uniforms, even Bridget in a handmade replica, and they were donning zombie face paint that made the girls look as though they were decaying. The sound of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" was playing on loop on Santana's iPod to "set the mood."<p>

It was quiet among the three of them, but it was not an awkward silence like that time Rachel saw her Uncle Frank in the shower. No, it was peaceful and homey as they waited for the Latina.

"Look, it's Lord Tubbington!" squealed Brittany, ceasing her efforts to mess Bridget's hair. The blonde cheerleader scooped the cat into her arms to show Rachel. "Say 'hi' to Rachel, Lord Tubbington!"

He was big cat. He was a football player or sumo wrestler of a cat. He had beautiful black tabby stripes on his soft, brown coat. His amber eyes were bright but bored. Rachel gently reached out a hand to stroke his short fur. He continued to look unimpressed with Rachel.

"Lord Tubbington was actually San's cat," Brittany explained, "She found him in their trash four years ago and hid him in her room until her mom found out. Her mom doesn't like cats so Santana gave him to me. His first name was Lorenzo but San called him 'Lord Tubbington' so many times that he thinks it's his name now."

Santana came down the stairs then, saving Rachel from thinking of response to the cat-themed conversation.

"Yes! Finally," Bridget cheered, leading the three older girls outside.

It was rather chilly and growing dark. The cool breeze sent shivers to seize her body, but it was refreshing in a way. Brittany and Santana led the way, pinkies linked, lost in conversation. Rachel felt herself grow slightly annoyed. They acted as though she were not there trailing behind them with a little girl she barely knew.

"Are they always like this?" she grumbled to herself.

"Yeah," said Bridget who had fallen in step beside her. "Usually when they're together they forget everyone. Whenever they babysit me, they always talk to each other and ignore me. And it's like, Santana's _always_ here, sleeping over or hanging out. Santana's nice and stuff but she takes up all of Britt's time." The young girl finished her rant with pout as she glared at her sister.

In response, Rachel let out a frustrated sigh, trying to amuse herself with the thought that she could see her breath. They had been walking for about a quarter of an hour now she estimated, visited some seven or so houses. They had had a good amount of various candies and treats already. Rachel could see why kids loved Halloween so much. She wondered if Coach Sylvester would approve of her Cheerios eating this much junk food.

Santana was presently knocking on the door to a house. Its windows were dark and Rachel could see no signs of life.

"Oh, come on!" the Latina yelled, "Open the fuck up! I wants my candy and I wants it now! Trick-or-fucking-treat!"

Brittany strategically placed her hands over Bridget's ears whenever Santana swore.

"Santana, no one's home," Rachel said hesitantly.

The outraged girl stood stiffly, glaring at the unopened door. "That is _so_ not cool," she muttered through gritted teeth. "You're not supposed to go out on Halloween unless you're okay with having your house defiled."

Santana reached into her candy bag and began to pull something out.

Before anything could happen, Brittany placed a soothing hand on the shaking Latina. "San, no," she reproached gently. "Put the lighter away."

Her friend smirked and rolled her eyes playfully, and pulled out an egg. "It wasn't a lighter, Britt-Britt."

Rachel let out the breath she did not know she was holding.

The taller brunette rolled her eyes again. "Damn," she whined, "Torch one building and everyone thinks you're a pyro." Santana tossed the egg over her shoulder carelessly. A self-satisfied grin formed on her face when it hit the door.

The starlet tried not to mourn over the senseless loss of life of the unhatched chick by such actions.

Wait, Santana had burnt down a building?

After an hour of going door-to-door, the girls had accumulated quite a stash of goodies. They had even scored cans of pop from one house and another guy had forgotten it was Halloween and gave each of them $5 as a peace offering. Rachel's bag was full with teeth-rotting delights. It was nearly over-flowing. The other three seemed to be having the same problem.

It was very dark out now and only the flickering streetlamps lit their path. Rachel wondered what time it was currently. None of the girls had worn a watch since Brittany had declared "zombies don't need watches." They arrived at what Santana promised to be their last house for the night.

Santana rapped her knuckles against the door. When no response came, she rang the doorbell. "Trick-or-treat!" she tried calling. "You're lights are on and I see movement in your window! Trick-or-treat, mofos!"

"Sunny," Brittany attempted to get the girl's attention. "San!" she tried again.

Santana pounded on the door. "Open up! I know you're home so why don't you make it easier for everyone and give the kid her loot!" She pounded her fist harder and rung the doorbell with the other hand. "Just give us some fucking candy!"

"San," Brittany placed a comforting hand on the other girl's shoulder, "This is my house."

"Oh." There was long space of quiet. "It's very dark."

There was another long pause between the two. "Lord Tubbington's big and all, but he can't work a door knob," Brittany gave her friend a cheeky grin, breaking the tension. She then unlocked the door and let everyone inside.

Her three companions immediately dumped their spoils out and began what reminded Rachel of stock trading at Wall Street. She stood watching for a few minutes as trades were made and rejected, finding herself amused to see the two teenagers acting so excited over something as simple as candy. She surmised that they would never behave this way if they had been at school, or perhaps, with Quinn.

It was as though the thought summoned her.

When her phone buzzed, Santana was forced stop trying to convince Bridget that two lollipops was a fair trade for a peanut butter cup. She answered it quickly and grunted something that sounded like an agreement before standing up.

"That was Quinn," she announced, heading toward the door. "She's at Puck's party, totally hammered and needs a ride home." She waved to Brittany and said she would be back soon.

Rachel decided to it was a good time to leave too and said good night to the two Pierces. As she walked home, the cold breeze blowing leaves and her hair, she wondered just how bad Quinn's hang over would be the next day.

* * *

><p><em>You know you're obsessed with words when you spend roughly two hours researching what people from Ohio and Chicago would call a carbonated beverage 'pop' or 'soda'.<em>


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Partying is such Sweet Sorrow**

The day after Halloween must have been hard on Quinn, Rachel thought, because the blonde Cheerio captain was absent from school. That day was also difficult for her and the other two of the Unholy Quartet. Cheering on a stomach filled with candy was a wonderful way of acquiring nausea. Remarkably, it was Brittany who had thought ahead to bring Pepto-Bismol with her to relieve their aching bellies.

The days after Halloween appeared to take their toll on their blonde leader as well. Although she and Rachel had only been friends for a little more than a month, Quinn seemed different to the starlet. She was quieter, and seemed distant and distracted. She hardly spoke—even her berating on the other Cheerios grew less brutal. Before, Rachel had thought the cheerleader was an extremely focused and ambitious individual. But now, the girl was listless and agitated. Her sweet angelic expression was gone for the most part, to be replaced by an almost guilty one.

Although it made the brunette secretly happy to see, Quinn did not hang on Finn as much as she did when she first joined glee. Rachel tried not to smile when the other cheerleader barely noticed the quarterback's presence or when she shrugged his arm off her shoulders.

At least that was one thing from Quinn's funk worked in Rachel's favour.

* * *

><p>After a little over a week since Halloween, Rachel decided it was time to confront her leader.<p>

"Is everything okay, Quinn?" the shorter cheerleader gently asked.

It was lunchtime, the best time to converse with any of the Quartet. The four of them sat at their table in the cafeteria, as per usual. The blonde addressed looked up from the food she had hardly touched.

"I'm fine," the cheer captain responded, her voice flat. "Why do you ask?"

Her hazel eyes had stared past the group when she spoke: Quinn was lying, the brunette deduced. Rachel thought for a moment, glimpsing Brittany and Santana tensing somewhat from her peripheral vision. Perhaps they had noticed their friend's change too.

"You've barely touched your lunch and you love taco day," she pointed out.

Quinn pursed her lips and her expression hardened. "I guess I'm just not that hungry today."

"You haven't been that hungry a lot lately," muttered Santana.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" questioned the blonde contemptuously.

"It means you're full of crap, Fabray," the taller brunette replied scathingly. "You've been acting different and everyone has noticed. This morning a Cheerio came to practice with a friggin' grass stain on her ass and you acted like you didn't even give a shit." She stopped, scrutinizing the head cheerleader. "What the fuck is up with you?"

Rachel shot a glare at the other girl. She had wanted to gently broach this topic, not slam it in the head with a sledgehammer.

"What Santana is so _tactfully_ saying is that we're worried about you," the shorter brunette added.

Quinn scoffed and rolled her eyes. "What is this, some sort of intervention?"

She stared at the other three cheerleaders, looking amused. But when she received no response, she hardened again. Groaning in exasperation, she repeated, "There is nothing 'up' with me because I'm fine."

The starlet desperately met the eyes of the head Cheerio, silently begging Quinn to open up to them.

But the blonde would not relent. "I'm fine, really."

There was space of silence among the four girls.

"Stop grilling me!" snapped Quinn.

"We're just worr—"

"Yeah, dwarf, I get it. You're all worried for me," the flaxen-haired girl interrupted. "I'm just fine. Everything is fine. Life is a freakin' bowl of cherries! Okay?" She stood up abruptly. "Now if you excuse me, I just lost my appetite."

She lifted her lunch tray with her untouched meal and started for the trash bin. Before she got five steps away, Santana called out to her.

"Quinn, wait."

The cheerleader turned back to their table, staring impatiently. Santana stared back, her chocolate eyes gentle and a small smile gracing her lips. The two girls were locked in each other's gazes, Quinn's eyes hard and glassy against Santana's eyes soft and watery. Their stares seemed to grow more intense with each passing heartbeat.

"Can I have your taco since you're not going to eat it?"

The blonde sighed and handed the brunette the taco gruffly. "Here."

Rachel watched despondently as Quinn stormed out of the cafeteria. The petite brunette decided then that it would be useless to attempt to pull answers out of the head cheerleader.

Quinn Fabray was not an easily read book. But, Rachel was the first kid in her class to learn how to read and the starlet hoped that fact would work in her favour in this situation.

* * *

><p>It was just a few days before Thanksgiving break and Rachel sat deep in thought in the choir room. She was the first one there for the glee club meeting that day. She startled when the door clicked open. Finn smiled at her as he took a seat beside her. That was when the petite starlet realized she had the perfect opportunity to talk to the quarterback alone about his girlfriend.<p>

The girlfriend he had since his sophomore year. The girlfriend he had for a year now.

Rachel swallowed her feelings for the boy. He was Quinn's boyfriend. She had to respect that. Besides, this unrequited love story will make for an excellent chapter when she writes her memoirs.

"Hello, Finn," she greeted brightly. She paused and thought of what to say. "Have you seen Quinn today? I haven't seen her since cheer practice this morning."

It was true. Quinn had not come to lunch that afternoon. Rachel surmised that the cheerleader wished to avoid another uncomfortable conversation.

The quarterback shook his head, confused. "Not since English class this morning."

"Does Quinn seem…different to you?" Rachel asked tentatively.

"No." Finn shook his head again, before looking lost. "But now that you mention it, she kind of does seem weirder." He paused, his face scrunched in contemplation. "I think she's mad at me."

"How do you mean?"

The tall boy looked strangely thoughtful for a few heartbeats. "Well, she doesn't call me often as she used to…which is actually really nice 'cause she always calls when I'm playing Call of Duty. And on our last date, she hardly said anything."

Rachel never got a chance to reply; Mercedes and Kurt came in as she was formulating another question. The two friends took seats on her other side.

"Hey, Rach," greeted Kurt, "We were wondering if you wanted to hang out after school today. Mercedes wants to go see that new romantic comedy."

The short girl played with the fringe of her Cheerios skirt, a nervous habit she had developed. "Actually, I already made plans with—"

"Don't tell me," Mercedes held up a hand to stop Rachel, "You've got plans with the Unholy Trinity tonight."

"That's Unholy Quartet now," she corrected. "They wanted to introduce me to some restaurant called Breadstix," she explained. "Apparently, I haven't lived if I haven't tried their breadsticks. And I do want to live…"

"Girl, when will you listen that those three are nothing but trouble?" the diva countered.

"They're not as bad as everyone thinks," she argued mildly. "They're my friends now and you are just going to have to accept it."

Kurt gave a disparaging sneer, "You could at least spend time with us, your _original_ friends."

Rachel felt her temper flare, mostly from the guilt of neglecting the duo lately. "I can't spend every spare moment with you two! I'm a Cheerio now and I'm popular. Everyone wants to spend time with me—namely the three most popular girls in school. You should be happy that I'm a star now!"

The boy glared at her. "We would be happy for you if you had achieved your so-called 'stardom' by more than mere association."

"What are you saying?" Rachel whispered.

"What Kurt means is that you're only popular because you're with _them_," Mercedes explained. There was no need to ask who she meant by _them_.

"You're wrong!" Rachel cried, "People like me because they know I'm special!"

The diva yelled right back at the petite girl, "Get a grip, Rachel! Everyone just pretends to like you because they don't want to cross with the Trinity. What people really think about you is that you're just another mindless minion of Quinn Fabray."

"But Quinn likes me," Rachel resisted. "She invited me into Cheerios. She joined glee club so we could spend more time together because she wanted us to be best friends."

Mercedes rolled her eyes and snorted. "Quinn doesn't care about you; she's just using you. The only person that girl cares about is herself."

"That's not true," the brunette squeaked out. "She's not a bad person and I would appreciate it if you would quit insulting her."

"But she _is_ a bad person," retorted the other girl. "Quinn Fabray has no friends, only lackeys. She's got Brittany and Santana brainwashed to do her bidding and it looks like she's gotten to you too."

"No!" she exclaimed. Her pride wounded, she felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes. "How would you know anything about them?" she growled.

"Back in freshman year we were—" Kurt started but was prevented from continuing as Mercedes slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Kurt, no."

The boy folded his arms and sighed, disgruntled.

"History aside," Mercedes said, her voice lowering as the fight left her body, "you need to wake up and realize you don't need them to be successful. You don't need to lie and spread rumours or some Cheerios gimmick to make it big like you think. You're better than that shit."

Rachel felt the tears, hot and bitter, gathering. Mercedes's words hit too close to home, to all her insecurities. She looked up and noticed for the first time that the rest of the glee club had arrived and were watching her wide-eyed. Suddenly, the walls were closing in on her and she could not take the stares of her peers any longer.

She needed to escape.

She stood up abruptly, blinking back her tears. "I am a Cheerio and those three are my friends now," she stated as steadily she could manage. "If you two are unable to accept that, then perhaps we can't be friends anymore. Cheerios and gleeks don't mix, after all."

Rachel spun around and stormed out the choir room door just as Mr. Schue walked in. She ignored his call for her to come back as she flew down the empty hallway, weeping openly. She pushed open the door to the nearest girl's restroom and retreated inside its sanctuary.

The starlet leaned against the sink, her hands gripping the porcelain edge until her knuckles turned white. She gazed at herself in the mirror. The girl in the reflection had her dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and her face was streaked with tears. Her Cheerios top and skirt were slightly wrinkled from the day's use.

It was a far cry from the girl who went to the Chicago High School for the Arts. The Rachel Berry who attended ChiArts wore sweaters with animals on them with knee-length skirts and tights. No one knew that Rachel Berry. She had no friends and no one knew her name. She was nobody.

But at William McKinley, everyone knew _this_ Rachel Berry, gleek, Cheerio, member of the Unholy Quartet, friend of Quinn Fabray. People knew her name. People talked about her. Boys wanted to date her. Younger Cheerios looked up to her. Jacob Ben Israel posted her weekend plans on his blog. There were no more slushie facials, no more dumpster diving, and no more bullying—just admiration.

Even if all this admiration were fake and just pretend, Rachel thought, it would be worth it. She needed the respect, the stares, the envy, the attention. She liked feeling special. She needed to feel special. The Cheerios were champions, and being on the team made her a champion too. Right?

Rachel sniffled, unsure of how long she had been standing there. She smoothed out her Cheerios outfit. If this uniform was needed to make her a star, to get her name out there, then she would wear it proudly.

Everyone else be damned—she would be a somebody here.

The sound of a bathroom stall creaking open startled her from her thoughts.

"Quinn, what are you doing here?" the brunette asked after she collected herself.

The blonde did not reply, her face clearly showing her surprise at finding Rachel standing there.

"Uh…" the head cheerleader stammered, shooting a glance at her hands.

Rachel followed Quinn's hazel eyes and was shocked to find her holding a home pregnancy test.

"Quinn, are you…?" the starlet trailed off, still staring at the box her friend clutched.

The flaxen-haired girl burst into tears and placed the test on the sink.

"I don't know!" she cried, "I don't know! It takes a few minutes before the results to show. I mean, I was late and I did something I know I shouldn't have at that stupid Halloween party," she confessed through her tears. "I've been doing a lot of somethings I shouldn't have done and I can't help but think this is God's way of punishing me!" She stopped her rambling to sob.

Rachel put her arms around the hysterical girl and let her cry on her shoulder as the two sunk to the floor. The shorter cheerleader could not help but wonder what Quinn was talking about, but for now she did her best to comfort her friend in this scary situation.

Quinn sniffled loudly. "Wait with me?"

Her voice was so broken and frightened that Rachel knew she could not say no even if she had wanted.

"Of course."

The two girls kneeled there in the empty bathroom, the brunette holding the blonde, for what could have been hours or a few heartbeats. Rachel could not tell. Time was irrelevant to them as Quinn cleaved to the shorter girl, shaking. Compelled by sympathy for the pale girl, Rachel held her friend and rocked her slowly as they held silent vigil together. There was no world outside that bathroom.

Once Quinn had gathered all what was left of her confidence, she slowly stood and made her way over to the sink. She picked up the test and stared blankly at the results. Rachel could feel the fear and uncertainty rolling off of the blonde in waves.

"Oh, thank you, Jesus," Quinn sighed, her voice cracked with a torrent of emotions, "It's negative: I'm not pregnant."

"Thank goodness," Rachel whispered, all the fears and troubles she had entered the bathroom with were long forgotten.

Quinn was still shattered, but she smiled faintly. "Thank you, God. I promise I'll never cheat or anything again. I will always be faithful," she repented quietly.

The word _cheat_ rang in Rachel's mind like bells.

"Cheat?" she tentatively asked the tear-streaked blonde. "Have you been cheating on Finn?"

Quinn gawked at her, appearing surprised that Rachel had heard her prayer. She regarded the tiled floor for several heartbeats and bit her lip. She let out a long breath and looked back to the shorter girl.

"Can I trust you?"

Rachel nodded immediately.

"I liked glee club more than I thought I would, so I wanted to help," Quinn shakily explained. "Puck said he'd join glee club and get some of his buddies to join too if I went on a date with him. So I did and we had a good time so we just…kept dating. But I really care about Finn too because he's my boyfriend and he'd probably make a better husband than Puck ever could…"

Quinn wiped the tears from eyes with the back of her hand. "You have to swear you'll never tell anyone!" The blonde's voice was stronger, though still tinged with fear. "Promise me!"

At the look of sheer desperation, Rachel nodded again. "I promise I won't tell, Quinn."

The other girl nodded back and seemed to relax somewhat. "I need to break it off with Puck. I wasn't ready for it. And I was so drunk…" she confessed to no one in particular. She latched onto Rachel again, seeming to draw comfort from their closeness. "Why am I so damn weak?" she sniffled. "I was supposed to save myself for marriage."

She added then, hardly audible as she pressed her face into the shorter cheerleader's hair, "My dad will kill me if finds out…" She grew rigid with terror in Rachel's arms. "You won't tell anyone, right?"

Rachel sighed and shook her head. "No, your secret is safe with me—and you're not weak, Quinn," she whispered.

The blonde made no reply, only held on to the brunette tighter.

Rachel's world was spinning out of control. She basically lost the first two friends she had ever made earlier. Her other friend lost her virginity to some boy because she cheated on her boyfriend; the boyfriend Rachel wanted almost as badly as fame.

For a moment, a brief moment, the petite girl thought of telling Finn. He would be hurt, of course, but he would get over Quinn. Then, he would be free to be with her. Quinn had Noah Puckerman anyway. Everyone would be okay.

She shook her head quickly to clear that thought from her mind. Her friend needed her now and she had promised not to tell anyone. However, the niggling idea remained in the back of mind no matter how hard she pushed it away.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **I apologize for the lack of updates recently. I've been busy with researching for a Brittana multi-chapter fic that soothes my inner psychology nerd. But now that the research is basically done, this should return to a regular schedule of updates.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven: Temptation Turns into Revelations<strong>

It was the first day of December and life moved on like normal. Rachel had spoken very little to Kurt and Mercedes since their fight, only interacting with the two during classes and glee rehearsals. Too proud to apologize to them, the starlet convinced herself that she no longer needed them now that she had Cheerios and the attention of the entire student body.

She did get attention, plenty of it. People were always looking at her. Boys wanted her and girls wanted to be her. Rachel was in heaven or at least, the heaven before she reached Broadway. Several times a week Jacob Ben Israel tried to get her to go on a date with him. When she refused, he would ask for a pair of her panties as a consolation prize.

She usually felt like showering after speaking with him.

But, nevertheless, he was a Rachel Berry fan. He was a creepy fan, practically a stalker, but he was still a fan. The thought of someone thinking about her made Rachel feel important. Someday, she told herself, she would have innumerable admirers.

Everyone in McKinley would pay attention to her, except for one person. He had seemed to forget her existence with Quinn constantly draped over him or hanging on him whenever they had a moment. The blonde had since seemed to remember which boy she was dating.

Rachel slammed her locker shut, sending a loud clanging sound to ring throughout the hallway. She tried some deep breathing techniques to sooth her frustration. It was almost time for the glee club meeting, but the starlet hardly felt gleeful that day. Seeing Finn and Quinn together so much lately had worn on her patience.

She turned away from her locker to see the couple advancing toward her. The quarterback had his arm slung over the blonde's shoulders, a large grin on his face. Rachel had tried to bury the envious twinges she felt seeing the cheerleader and quarterback together, but it was to no avail. She could not help thinking that Quinn did not deserve Finn, she had cheated on him after all.

Swallowing the jealously bubbling up, she sent them a friendly smile. "Hello, Quinn, Finn."

"Rachel!" beamed the blonde as she broke away from Finn's grasp to hug the shorter girl.

The brunette was surprised by the head cheerleader's gesture. Quinn had never hugged her before, but it was definitely welcome.

"Excited for the pep rally Friday?" asked Quinn as she tore from the embrace. "You know the Cheerios are performing?"

Rachel returned the taller girl's grin. "Yes, Coach shouted it to us when we were in the showers yesterday, remember?"

The blonde laughed. "You get used to that sort of thing after awhile."

"What, coaches bellowing information at you while you're showering?" Rachel smirked.

Behind Quinn, Finn coughed, reminding the two girls he was still there.

"We should be heading to glee, right?" Finn looked at his girlfriend like a child seeking approval.

Quinn nodded. "Rachel, would you like to walk with us?"

The shorter cheerleader smiled at her captain, accepting. Falling into an easy silence, the three ambled down the school corridor toward the choir room. As they went, Rachel wondered if the Cheerio captain had told Finn about the pregnancy scare, and especially, who the father would have been. Honestly, she doubted it by the goofy grin on Finn's face. If he had worries about his girlfriend's previous fright, he did not show it.

Rachel was jostled out of her thoughts when a girl rammed into Quinn, knocking the soft drink she carried all over the blonde's cheer uniform.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" exclaimed the girl as she adjusted her large glasses. "I-I didn't see you, I swear!"

The brunette thought she glimpsed fury flash across Quinn's hazel eyes, vanishing as fast as it appeared.

The head Cheerio wiped at some of the sticky substance spilled on her. "It's okay." Her voice was strained. "Really," she said through gritted teeth, "it's fine."

The other girl, shivering with fear, nodded and fled the scene. Rachel found herself admiring how Quinn was able to keep calm with the clumsy girl. She glanced over to Quinn, intending to comment on that, when she noticed that the pale brown liquid was quickly staining the blonde's red-and-white top.

She flushed. "Quinn, you might consider putting on a jacket of some sort: I can see your bra."

Looking down, the taller cheerleader groaned at the sight. "Ugh, Finn, gimme your jacket."

Finn, however, made no response. His eyes were fixated on the black sports bra that was showing beneath the saturated white fabric.

"Finn!" barked Quinn, her previous composure gone.

The jock flinched back to life. "I wasn't looking!"

"I'm sure," muttered the blonde before adding more loudly, "Give me your jacket; I can't go to glee like this."

Finn obediently shrugged off his letterman jacket and slid it onto Quinn's smaller frame. The trio started toward the choir room again.

"That girl is so going to get it," stated the head cheerleader.

"Yeah, you hate root beer," commented Finn.

Quinn shook her head. "That's not the point. She humiliated me and I won't let her get away with it."

"What are you going to do?" questioned Rachel, curious.

Instead of answering the shorter girl directly, the blonde turned to her boyfriend. "I want the football team to slushie her—everyday, until she graduates. I don't want to see an unstained spot on that hideous rag she calls 'a dress.'" She stared at the tall boy commandingly. "Am I clear?"

"Yes, Quinn."

Rachel imagined she could hear the sound of a whip cracking as they entered the choir room. As she took a seat beside Brittany and Santana, she flashed back to her first day at McKinley.

"_Watch where you're going, midget!"_

The slushie facials started not long after she had bumped into Quinn that morning. Did Quinn order the football team to slushie her for running into her then? Eyeing the blonde cheerleader taking the seat next to Finn, Rachel decided that it hardly mattered whether or not Quinn had ordered the icy-cold facials or not.

As Mr. Schue strolled into the choir room, she leaned back in chair, sighing. It did not take long before she had tuned out the teacher's voice and lost herself in her mind.

Again and again, she had been plagued with thoughts of telling him of Quinn's infidelity. He had a right to know, she rationalized. But the terrified and desperate look on her friend's face back in that restroom had prevented her from doing so.

As she sat listening to Mr. Schuester rap some 90's song, her eyes wandered over to Finn and Quinn. The blonde cheerleader had her head on his shoulder and the quarterback wrapped his arm over her in return. Ever since her bathroom confession, Quinn had been extremely affectionate with Finn.

Rachel frowned. It was painful to see the two together.

She cast a look to Noah Puckerman. The other football player was stealing glances of the flaxen-haired girl. The mohawked boy appeared distressed. She had never really spoken much to Noah if at all, but she could tell something was bothering him. She wondered if it was a bad breakup.

She let the thoughts go when the director finished.

"Mr. Schue, if I may?" Kurt raised his hand. "I'm not sure if that song choice would be a good idea for the pep rally."

Rachel realized she must have not been listening because she had no memory of being told the glee club was singing at the pep rally too. She suddenly felt her full attention shift onto the conversation. Perhaps she would get a solo.

"That song," Kurt went on to say, obviously picking his words carefully, "well, let's just say it isn't a song that inspires."

Mr. Schuester was taken aback. "And what do you suggest, Kurt?"

"I know my specialty in music selection is more theatrical typically," the boy replied, "But I was thinking of maybe Queen's 'We Will Rock You'."

Will nodded thoughtfully. "I think that actually might be better."

"I know."

Rachel had to agree with her former friend. Anything would be better than "Ice, Ice Baby." Sometimes, she wondered what her teacher was thinking.

"I think that is an excellent song choice and I volunteer my services in singing it," Rachel announced, flashing her award-winning smile.

Her grin faded as Mr. Schuester paused and stared at her, looking uncomfortable.

"Actually, Rachel," the club director said apologetically, "I was thinking that Finn and Quinn would sing it as a duet."

The hurt starlet shot a glance at the chosen two behind her. Quinn smirked and Finn merely shrugged and mouthed 'Sorry'.

Rachel was not pleased. But she nodded sadly and remained quiet for the rest of the meeting. She felt her thoughts tugging her back into her mind. She found herself pondering whether or not the head Cheerio's unfaithfulness was what Mercedes had meant by _life-ruiner_. She knew it upset her greatly to see Finn giving Quinn all his devotion when the fair-haired girl had cheated on him with a different football player.

The short cheerleader also found it irritating that ever since Quinn joined glee club, only the blonde got to sing with Finn. Rachel let herself pine for the time when Finn only sang with her, not his unfaithful girlfriend.

She felt her smile slowly return.

* * *

><p>The days passed quickly and monotonously. The pep rally would be held last period that afternoon. However, Rachel had doubts Quinn would be able to sing or perform their Cheerios or glee number.<p>

Ever since that awful day in the bathroom together when the two girls held on to each other for dear life, Rachel had become something like Quinn's confidant. The brunette felt a strange stir of emotions for the head cheerleader these past few weeks since she discovered her friend's infidelity. It was a unique blend of caring, tenderness, and sisterhood with a serving of the desire to sneak into Quinn's bedroom and hold a pillow over the blonde's face until the struggling stops.

Quinn was presently kneeling over the toilet in the girl's bathroom nearest the choir room. Rachel was bent behind her and rubbing the sick cheerleader's back comfortingly as the blonde heaved again. For the past three days, the two girls spent much time on restroom floors throughout the high school. Gastroenteritis, the stomach flu, had seized the Cheerio captain.

"Oh God, I swear there's a shark shredding my stomach to pieces," moaned Quinn, her ashen face still hovering above the toilet bowl.

Rachel grimaced, feeling a stab of pity. "You should go home, Quinn. You're sick."

The blonde shook her head, "I'm fine. I'm just being a baby is all."

"Nonsense, you're sick. You can't keep anything down and I bet you have a fever."

"I'll live."

Rachel rolled her eyes, growing impatient with other girl's stubbornness. "At least don't sing at the rally today," the starlet reasoned with her. "You're obviously not up to it."

She felt her friend stiffen underneath her hand. "I can't imagine how bad it'll smell in gym with all those people in the bleachers, stinking of sweat and mystery meat from the cafeteria," muttered the cheerleader. The blonde convulsed as she dry heaved at the sheer thought. "I'm in hell," Quinn whispered to herself.

The brunette bit her lip. "I can tell Mr. Schue that you're unable to attend the rally today if you want."

The only response she received was a sniffle and a subtle nod.

* * *

><p>When it was time for the pep rally, Rachel stood in Quinn's place on the stage. The bleachers were filled with teenagers and teachers cheering loudly. The gymnasium was booming with the sound of the school band and excited shouts of the spectators.<p>

Rachel was high with the sound of the applause the Cheerios had just received with their outstanding performance. Coach Sylvester had nearly unleashed Armageddon when Quinn failed to show, but luckily held her temper back enough to keep the starlet (and many others, she was sure) from another year of therapy. Eventually Sue had had Santana fill in as the temporary head cheerleader, and Rachel deemed that she had never seen the Latina more delighted to be a Cheerio.

Presently, it was time for the glee club to sing their song as the closing number. As she stood silently on the stage opposite of Finn, she could not stop the grin that kept fighting its way onto her face. The starlet was overjoyed that she got to sing with the quarterback after all, in front of the whole school no less. First, the Cheerios' jaw-dropping routine and now every student would hear her dazzling voice.

She felt a dull sting of despair still. She was only standing in front because Quinn was too ill to sing. She swallowed the remorse. The show had to go on with or without her friend.

The music started and she listened as Finn started chanting the first verse. She joined him in belting out the chorus, and the two commenced in what the brunette girl could only consider a sing-off. The rest of New Directions were behind her and her partner, singing the background vocals. Rachel waved her hands to the audience, encouraging them to join in too. Soon, the whole gymnasium was pounding with the beat of Queen.

They received a standing ovation. Rachel grabbed Finn's hand and took a bow, her ecstasy spilling over. When she stood upright again, she saw by the gym entrance was standing Quinn. The head cheerleader's face was a swirl of suspicion and nausea. The shorter Cheerio dropped the quarterback's hand self-consciously. She held Quinn's gaze momentarily before shuffling out of the gym with the rest of the glee club.

However, before she entered the choir room with the group, she decided to turn back and check if Quinn was feeling all right. She remembered that the blonde dreaded the smell of the place and the heavily pulsating music could give a healthy person a sick stomach.

Rachel was about to open the double doors, when she saw that the ill Cheerio was standing where she left her. Only Quinn was not alone. There in front of the blonde stood Noah Puckerman.

She never considered herself a nosy person, but she was…_concerned_. She was concerned about her friend's well-being when that friend was with the boy who had taken her virginity. So, she did what any concerned friend would do, she waited outside the door and strained her ears. She could only hear indistinct voices, making her sigh in frustration. _Speak louder_, she mentally shouted to them. She peered through the door's window. She wished she knew what Noah was saying to Quinn.

The hidden observer gasped when Puck leaned over and kissed Quinn. Rachel's hand flew over her mouth before she raced to the choir room. Her decision about telling Finn about Quinn's secret had just been sealed with a kiss.

When she got inside the room, Mr. Schue was congratulating the glee club on a job well done. She swiftly took the seat beside Finn.

"Can we talk after?" she whispered to him, who looked confused but nodded anyway.

When the director dismissed them for the day, Rachel remained seated and watched as the rest of the club hurriedly got up from their respective seats and scurry out of the room. Once the room was empty aside from herself and Finn, she took a deep breath and thought about how she wanted to say it.

"I'm afraid I'm the bearer of bad news, Finn," she started slowly.

Finn grew worried. "Oh no, did someone die?"

"What? No. It's concerning Quinn."

"What about Quinn?" the quarterback asked, even more confused than before.

Rachel took another deep breath. She did not want to betray her friend's trust but this was an odd situation, she justified. She was not telling the whole of McKinley, just one person. Finn deserved to know the truth. He should know what was going on with his girlfriend, even if it was not good.

"Quinn's cheating on you," she said softly.

The boy's brown eyes doubled in size. "What?"

"She has been seeing someone else. She had a pregnancy scare."

Finn looked dumbfounded. "But—but we've been saving ourselves for—"

Rachel cut him off before he could finish. "She's cheating on you, Finn," she revealed, "with Noah."

"Noah Puckerman?"

She nodded.

He remained stoic. She supposed that he must be in denial about the situation. So she decided to further clarify for him. "I know because I was there when she took the pregnancy test. She told me everything." Before she could think, more words spilled from her. "She made me promise not to tell anyone, but I knew you needed to know. And you needed to know, right, Finn?"

When he showed no sign of response, she pressed, "Finn?"

The petite cheerleader watched as Finn's expression of distress morphed into rage.

"How could she do this to me?" yelled the boy as he stood up violently and kicked the chair he had been sitting on, causing Rachel to jump. "We've been going steady since summer of our freshman year!"

He paced around the empty room like a caged animal, running his hands through his hair. His face was a torrent of hurt, fury, and betrayal.

Rachel sat in her chair still, watching him as he worked through the initial shock of the revelation. She had to admit, she was actually frightened by Finn's reaction. She had expected yelling at first, but then he would have broken down into tears and she would comfort him in his time of need. They would bond over it and he would break up with Quinn and be with her. She had been kind enough to break her promise to a friend of hers to make sure he knew the truth.

But, he shed no tears as he stood stiffly with his back turned to her as he stared off into nothing. Rachel bit her lip, mulling over words of comfort she could say.

"Finn?" the small girl started gently.

The footballer was unresponsive for a heartbeat before shaking his head to her. "I'm sorry, Rachel," he muttered, his anger and pain still evident. "I can't right now." He then left the choir room, slamming the door behind him.

The starlet sighed and let her brown gaze fall to the floor. She remained seated, feeling slightly numb from her conversation. It was not exactly how she planned it but at least he knew the truth. That was what was most important, she mentally told herself.

She looked back up upon hearing the door open again. But it was not Finn coming back to thank her, unfortunately. Instead, she saw Santana staring at her oddly. She felt fear tighten around her heart. She hoped that the other cheerleader had not heard what she and Finn were talking about.

"What are you doing here, Santana?" Rachel blinked. She had thought everyone would have gone home by now.

The Latina replied with a smirk and brushed by her to the row behind the shorter girl.

She bent over and picked up something. "Forgot my bag," she said, holding the satchel up for the other brunette to see. She then started to leave, but before she made it to the exit, she stopped and turned back to Rachel.

"Hey, short stack." Santana paused briefly, her prior mirth faded into curiosity. "About Quinnie the Pooh, is it true?"

The starlet decided to play dumb with hopes that the taller brunette would just drop the subject.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Santana rolled her eyes impatiently and crossed her arms. "Cut the crap, leprechaun," she snapped harshly. "You forget I'm best friends with Brittany—I know when someone is just playing stupid."

Rachel swallowed nervously and toyed with the fringes of her skirt. There was no use in denying it.

"Yes," the shorter cheerleader replied in defeat before adding more forcefully, "But you can't tell anyone!"

The other cheerleader's expression was strangely thoughtful, soft almost. But it faded as quickly as it came.

"About Quinn and Puck?" a subtle smirk played at her lips. "Don't worry, man-hands, I won't tell anyone about that."

Rachel watched as Santana left, carrying her forgotten bag and the knowledge of Quinn's secret with her. The starlet stared as the door banged shut again, leaving her all alone with her thoughts. She sighed and leaned back in her chair.

The petite Cheerio sensed her wills battling within her. She wanted to feel good about telling Finn, and indeed, part of her felt relieved and hopeful. Another part, a part that she was hastily trying to bury deep inside her, was drenched in guilt. She was soaked in the shame that she revealed her friend's weakness and thereby broke her trust. In the end, however, she pushed that guilt into its freshly-dug grave and let herself rejoice that soon Finn might just love her back.

Everything would be all right.

In that light, she told herself that Santana had promised not to say anything, but no soothing words could quell the growing dread Rachel felt rising inside.

* * *

><p><em>Please don't hate me for everything that is happening and going to happen. I have my reasons for each character's actions, I do. Faberry is still totally endgame, it's just not the easiest road to get there.<em>


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: **Chapter nine will probably be posted sometime next week (March 26, or something), since it basically the second half of Chapter eight.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight: A New World Order<strong>

"I'm a bad person," Rachel said to the reflection in the mirror.

Her image stared back blankly. Even the cheerful yellow walls of her bedroom failed to improve her mental state. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were clouded with guilt and worry. She would have to face Quinn and Finn on Monday, and with this morning being Sunday, she did not have much time to gather herself.

She shook her head, her brown tresses curtaining her face. "It's going to be fine. You'll see. Finn will start to date me and nothing will hurt."

She smiled faintly into the mirror. Her eyes then drifted to the Cheerios uniform hanging on her closet door.

"I betrayed Quinn, though."

She argued with herself, "But she'll be fine. She's the strongest girl I've ever met.

"You're still a traitor, though.

"I did what I thought was right.

"What is 'right'?

"Don't get all philosophical on me."

Rachel took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She swore she would get dizzy from the constant swinging back and forth from her pendulum-like emotional state.

* * *

><p>It was the Monday after the pep rally. Rachel had spent the entire weekend as a recluse in her room. Her emotions swung from "Oh, everything will be just fine" to "I'm no better than a traitor" every few hours over the two days of solitude. Her mind was a battlefield between the two extremes with neither side being able to claim victory. The petite cheerleader was terrified of what she would find at school that day.<p>

She entered the gymnasium early that morning; the fresh layer of snow that had fallen over the weekend had finally convinced Sue Sylvester that cheer practice should be held indoors until the spring. As it turned out, the cheer coach could, indeed, feel the cold, unlike what the rumours suggested.

The large room was a sea of red-and-white clad girls stretching and warming up, filling the gym with their chatter. Rachel's brown gaze travelled over the crowd, searching for her friends.

"I still can't believe Finn broke up with me."

She immediately recognized the voice of the head Cheerio.

Quinn was seated on the bottom row of the bleachers, her shoulders slumped dejectedly. Brittany sat next to her, her hand rubbing comforting circles on her friend's back.

The brunette felt guilt stabbing inside her, making her nauseated. She had not put too much thought in how it would affect cheer captain when she told Finn of her unfaithfulness. Seeing the girl's pain made her decision real suddenly.

"Did he say why?" the taller girl asked gently, her face filled with concern.

Rachel could see Quinn tense at the innocent question. The mourning blonde looked up and noticed the short starlet eavesdropping. Her hazel eyes that had been flood of depression morphed into a tempest of rage when they met the brown ones of her observer.

The smaller girl grew cold and froze in her place. She shivered with the amount of hatred that Quinn shot at her.

"You!" snarled the head cheerleader as she stood up and flew over to Rachel, standing dangerously close to the shorter Cheerio. She opened her mouth to say more but faltered when Coach Sylvester entered the gymnasium with Santana trailing behind her.

Rachel grew more fearful of imminent disaster when she saw the dark smile that the Latina wore.

Her stomach twisted painfully.

"All right," Sue's firm voice echoed in the gym, "I have a few announcements before we start practice today."

The girls stared intently at their coach, intrigued, but all Rachel could think was _no, no, no_. She felt as though she were standing on quicksand and sinking without any lifeline. Her breath hitched in her throat. Blood roared in her ears and Rachel wondered if anyone else could hear her pounding heart.

"As of now Quinn Fabray will no longer be your captain," the intimidating woman announced. "She is off the Cheerios for reasons that you'll all see in a few months when her stomach is jutting out at you."

The former head cheerleader gasped as if she had been burned.

The coach concluded, "Santana Lopez is now head Cheerio. I expect you show her nearly the same respect you show me. "

Santana stood with a self-satisfied smirk and Rachel scolded herself for believing that the taller brunette would not tell anyone Quinn's secret.

"Q, turn in your uniform and leave," Sue ordered the shaking blonde.

"But I'm not—" the former cheerleader protested weakly.

Coach Sylvester cut her off, "Turn in your uniform and leave."

Quinn cast glares at both her and Santana before storming out of the gymnasium. The door banged shut, sounding like a gunshot to Rachel, causing her to flinch.

The rest of the Cheerios murmured among themselves again, whispering observations to each other.

"So Fabray's pregnant?"

"But she was always such a prude…"

"I did hear her puking her guts out last week in the girl's bathroom."

"Morning sickness?"

Rachel was dizzy with how fast everything was going. She wanted to stand up for Quinn, but when she opened her mouth, language failed her. The gossip was already out of her hands and spreading like a disease throughout the cheerleaders. She glanced toward the bleachers and saw Brittany trotting over to her.

"Is it true, Rachel?" asked the taller girl, "She's closest to you."

The starlet shook her head. "No!"

Brittany nodded, relieved, before heading toward Santana.

"All right, enough of these dramatics! Time for practice!" Coach Sylvester shouted commandingly.

However, instead of joining the group, Rachel turned and followed the ex-Cheerio's path into the locker room.

"Quinn?" that brunette called tentatively once she entered the locker room.

She jumped when she heard a locker door violently slam shut. She turned and found the blonde standing by her locker. Tears streamed down the taller girl's face.

"Quinn," Rachel repeated herself, unsure of what else to say, and took a step toward the livid ex-cheerleader.

"This is all your fault!" the flaxen-haired girl shouted, venom spitting at the brunette's face. "You promised you wouldn't tell! I trusted you!"

The smaller Cheerio stood frozen, letting the accusing words cut her. "I'm sorry," she whispered shakily. "I didn't mean for all this to happen when I told Finn. I didn't know Santana would overhear!"

"You were the one who told Finn?"

"I'm sorry!" Rachel pleaded, "I just thought he deserved the truth."

"No, you didn't!" growled Quinn, her face twisted with hatred and pain, "You told Finn about me and broke us up just so you can get your grubby man-hands on him!"

At Rachel's gasp, she rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't look so surprised; of course I knew—there were fucking rumours about you and Finn all over school! And not to mention you're not very subtle about anything. I've seen the way you look at him. Why do you think I joined glee club and invited you into the Cheerios in the first place, huh? I wanted to keep an eye on you."

The starlet remained silent, not bothering to defend herself when she knew that the angry girl was right. All she could do was utter another feeble apology.

"I'm so sorry."

"'Sorry' won't change the past," stated the blonde, quivering with fury. "You'll pay for what you've done, hobbit."

She swiftly grabbed her bag and opened the locker room door to leave. Before exiting, she looked back over her shoulder. She sent her one final icy glare, her eyes still brimming with unshed tears, then the door swung shut and she was gone.

Rachel took in a deep breath, letting it out through her mouth as her gaze fell to the floor. She wished she had weighed Quinn's feelings when she decided to tell Finn the blonde's secret. Was it even in her right to tell anyone Quinn's secret? She had been so focused on the quarterback's feelings that she had overlooked that this would affect Quinn too. But, the damage was done and the cheerleader could do nothing to fix this presently.

She sighed again and decided she did not have the energy for cheer practice this morning. She tightened her ponytail and smoothed her skirt's fringes then headed for first class of the day, figuring the best thing she could do was allow this situation time.

* * *

><p>The day went by in a blur. Rachel hardly heard her teachers, finding her normal attentiveness just not there. Her mind was blank; scarcely a thought announced its presence. It was strange, she later reflected, how her mind seemed to just shut down after her encounter with Quinn that morning. Her brain, which was normally buzzing with dozens of thoughts, ideas, and aspirations nonstop, was deadly silent. It felt similar to a New York City with no people.<p>

However, during the course of her absentminded day, she found herself eerily calm with the events she unwittingly brought to pass. There were no more regrets. Her conscience no longer felt seared with guilt. Her outlook, although not cheery, was no longer bleak. She convinced herself that this all would have happened eventually. The truth always comes out, after all.

Surely, it was better that all this drama happened sooner rather than later?

When the lunch bell rang, Rachel was relieved. The day was half over. All she wanted currently was to go home, cuddle up with a blanket and her dog, and watch a Barbra Streisand marathon. She smiled at the idea as she carried her lunch tray over to her usual table. The smile faded once she saw that Brittany and Santana were already sitting beside each other, eating their own meals. The tall blonde waved happily to her before resuming their conversation. The Latina, on the contrary, did nothing to notice the shorter brunette's existence.

Seeing the new cheer captain restarted that guilty feeling that Rachel had previously numbed.

"Why, Santana?" she asked as she sat down.

The Cheerio addressed paused and looked toward her in confusion.

"Come again?"

Rachel felt her frustration grow. "Why did you tell Coach Sylvester about the pregnancy scare?" she clarified. "You said you wouldn't!"

In return, Santana rolled her eyes. "You really need to learn to listen, Berry. I said wouldn't say anything about Quinn and Puck. I never mentioned I'd stay quiet about the whole babygate debacle." A subtle smirk tugged at the girl's lips. "And I happen to be a woman of my word—I never told Coach Sylvester about who the baby's father was."

The starlet gaped, confounded with her fellow cheerleader. Biting her lip, she glanced at Brittany for help, but the blonde girl was staring intently at her tray and poking her pasta with her fork. Rachel quickly realized that Brittany would offer her no support in this confrontation.

She pursed her lips and sighed angrily. "But why?"

"So I could be head cheerleader," the other brunette stated simply, "Isn't that obvious?"

Rachel cast fleeting look at Brittany again, begging silently for the taller blonde's support in this dispute. It only fueled the starlet's irritation when she saw that Brittany was still fixated on her meal, huddled into herself as if she wanted to disappear.

"Don't you feel the least bit guilty for telling Coach?" Rachel asked scornfully.

"Don't you feel the least bit guilty for telling Finn?" Santana countered with equal venom.

The petite brunette opened her mouth before shutting it again, finding that she had no response for that. Rachel fidgeted and dropped her gaze to the table in defeat. Perhaps she and Santana were equally accountable. Both of them had chosen to use a friend's misfortune to pursue their own selfish gains.

She felt someone sit beside her and found Quinn timidly placing her lunch tray on their table. She was no longer in her Cheerios uniform, instead sporting a matching WMHS sweatshirt and sweatpants that were a few sizes too big. Her flaxen hair was let loose from its ponytail, only being tamed by a headband.

"What are you doing here, Juno?" Santana inquired with a sneer.

"I'm not pregnant," Quinn glared at the Latina. "And I always sit here."

"That was when you were a Cheerio," the new cheerleader captain replied, "And only Cheerios can sit with us."

Rachel shrunk from the two girls, deciding it might be best to mimic Brittany and focus on the food in front of her. She wondered why Quinn would even want to sit with the two girls who had betrayed her so recently.

"I was a Cheerio this morning," the blonde ex-cheerleader retorted, "before a certain _someone_ stole that from me."

Santana smiled mockingly. "True, but you're still not a Cheerio _now_ so that means this table is off-limits, especially when you're dressing like the mascot of the school store."

Quinn looked down, embarrassed. "I didn't have any other clothes, so I had to borrow these from the lost-and-found."

The blonde defiantly met the dark eyes of the brunette across from her again. "Look, I know the stupid, fucking rules we have—I mean, I was there when we made them—but can I at least sit here for today?" Her tremulous voice that had been dripping with poison was controlled and the former cheerleader's expression was carefully fixed at neutral.

Rachel looked up from her salad and stared at Santana, silently pleading to her with her eyes to say 'yes' and let Quinn join them. Perhaps it was for old times' sake or perhaps it was because Rachel knew the truth: that Quinn had nowhere else to go.

However, Santana appeared unmoved. "When Britt sprained her ankle last year during practice and couldn't participate for two months, you wouldn't let her sit with us. When you were a freshman and Britt and I were in eighth grade, you wouldn't be seen with us because we were 'inferiors and Cheerios don't associate with non-Cheerios.'"

She paused, allowing Quinn to absorb the information before continuing. "So if the rules can't be bent for us, why should we bend them for you?"

Their former leader clenched her jaw and glared at Santana, her body rigid next to Rachel. The silent tension among the girls became so thick that it felt like an entirely new entity enveloping the lunch table. The petite starlet struggled to breathe as the two stared at each other callously.

"Fine," Quinn spoke curtly, not allowing any emotion from being rejected by her friends to show. "If that's the way it's going to be."

Quinn stood up slowly as though to give them a chance to change their minds. She eyed each of them coldly before picking up her untouched lunch tray, dumping it in the trash, and leaving the cafeteria. Rachel watched her leave remorsefully. She never realized how fragile friendship was before.

Once Quinn was out of sight, Brittany looked up for the first time since Rachel had joined them, her blue eyes torn with apprehension and sadness. The blonde's gaze flickered between Santana, Rachel, and the exit momentarily. She looked thoughtful for few heartbeats before returning to her usual blankness.

"I guess we're the Unholy Trinity again," the tall blonde said deadpan, "Unless Rachel counts for half a person still?"

With that simple question, the air seemed fresh again, breathable again. Santana's eyes no longer seemed as dark; instead, they were lit with mild amusement from the memory of a debate from months ago. The phantom that had possessed the lunch table seemed to have relinquished its hold as quickly as it had seized them. Rachel felt her muscles loosen with the dissolving tension and let a smile slowly creep its way onto her face.

"Well," replied the starlet slyly, picking up on Brittany's tone, "If it's my height that's the problem, then I could start wearing heels after practices from now on."

Santana laughed slightly, and Rachel found herself both surprised and proud that the Latina found her comment humourous.

"I _guess_ you can be whole person, Berry," the captain announced with a grin, "But you're still a dwarf. Although I'd pay big money to see you do one of our routines in stilettos."

"I'd pay big money to see Coach in stilettos," Brittany added with a smirk.

The three girls shared a laugh together as they envisioned Sue Sylvester barking orders at them while wearing high heels with her regular track suit. As Rachel glanced between her two friends, eating their lunches and joking together, she found it was quite easy to forget that one member of their group was missing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine: Running the World**

"We have a lot of work to do if we want to compete in Sectionals," Mr. Schuester began their glee club meeting, "It's only a week away and we're one member short of the required twelve. We also need to decide on a set list."

Next to Rachel, Santana looked annoyed. "Seriously, Mr. Schue?" she asked, scolding the teacher. "You wait until one week before competition to start planning? Coach Sylvester already has us practicing for Nationals—and that isn't even until, like, April."

It was the glee club meeting later the same day that Quinn was kicked off the Cheerios, and thus kicking her out of the Unholy Trinity. Rachel was shocked when she had entered the choir room that day to find Quinn already there, sitting in back row. Even Finn had stayed in the club; he was currently occupying a chair in the front row on the opposite side of the ex-Cheerio. The blonde girl kept her hazel eyes fixed on their teacher, never letting her gaze touch any of the other glee members.

There was a terrible tension in the room. It was like a phantom that choked the air from the room, filling it with unease and fear among the entire club. It was an invisible force pressing on her chest, making it impossible to breathe every time she saw Finn glare at Puck. It pressed harder whenever she glimpsed Brittany giving Quinn a sympathetic glance. It strangled her whenever Mercedes or Kurt accidently met her eyes. It was like having her own personal poltergeist haunting her and there was no escape. Even the students who were not involved in the conflict seemed to sense its presence, judging by the uncomfortable appearance of Sam Evans, Mike Chang, and Tina.

It was obvious that the rumours of Quinn's pregnancy and cheating had reached the choir room. The question of "is she or isn't she?" had been slithering through the student body since that morning. It slid through the stairwells and hissed in each slam of a locker. It constricted around Rachel's neck every time she overheard a hushed whispering. The fact that the former Cheerio had been heard vomiting on school premises only fueled the speculation.

When a flash of pain crossed Quinn's eyes, the starlet thought she could not feel guiltier. Rachel blamed herself for causing this, all of this stress that sucked the air from the room like a vacuum. She wondered if a stroke felt anything like this.

"Well, I'm not Sue Sylvester," Mr. Schue interrupted her remorseful meditation. "Your assignment for this week is to recruit another member and to think of show-stopping songs for us to sing. Remember, guys, we need to place at Regionals if we want glee club to continue. And in order to do that, we need to win this."

"And what exactly will you be doing if we're the ones figuring out the songs and members?" Santana challenged again.

Mr. Schuester held the Latina's irritated glare. "I will be handling the paperwork required to enter us in the competition and getting permission to borrow one of the school buses to take us to the competition and convincing Principal Figgins that there's enough money in the school budget to let us compete."

Santana leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, apparently satisfied with the director's answer.

They were then dismissed for the day, and Rachel got up to leave with Brittany and Santana. Before exiting, the shorter brunette shot a glance to Quinn, who remained seated, unmoving from her spot. Their eyes met for a moment, and Rachel stopped breathing. She tried her best to send her friend another apology in a single look, but the blonde merely glared with abhorrence in response. Despite the cold hostility that swirled in the torrent of hazel, Rachel could feel the waves of pain that rolled off of Quinn.

She lingered, meeting the aggressive gaze steadily, inwardly fighting herself on whether or not to try talking to Quinn again. In the end, Rachel was still too emotionally exhausted after her confrontation with the ex-cheerleader. The petite brunette sighed, surrendering herself to emotional apathy, and ran to catch up with Brittany and Santana, leaving Quinn alone.

* * *

><p>It was strange to go to cheer practice that next day, Rachel lamented privately, and find Quinn not there, yelling at some unfortunate freshman over a wrinkled uniform or a torn skirt fringe. It had been part of her routine to hear the blonde reprimanding someone. Quinn had only missed practice once during Rachel's time on the Cheerios.<p>

It felt nearly as strange when Santana showed up in the gymnasium— dare she say?—chipper. The new head cheerleader did yell and berate many of the other girls, even more fiercely than Quinn. But, to Rachel, something felt off about it. It seemed to her that the new captain was trying to prove something, unlike with Quinn, whose leadership appeared to come naturally.

Practice went well, but something was missing. Or perhaps more accurately, she thought, _someone_ was missing.

The starlet jumped when Coach Sylvester approached her after she dismissed the other cheerleaders.

"S, B, and R, my office," demanded the woman, voice hoarse with strain, "Now!"

Even from across the room, Rachel swore she could see the vein in the woman's neck bulging. She suddenly felt very small. The short brunette caught a glimpse of Brittany flinching at the shouting before the starlet followed the cheer coach into her office. Close behind Rachel, Santana was pulling Brittany with her.

"I hate Will Schuester!" the cheer coach shouted once the office door swung shut, her loathing spewing out like poisonous darts.

The three cheerleaders stood eerily still, waiting for their trainer's temper to spend itself. Knowing that this probably had more to do with glee club rather than his Spanish classes, Rachel wearily shot a look at Brittany and Santana. The tall blonde shielded herself behind her friend, looking like a scolded toddler, while the Latina stood her ground, arms akimbo. Only the ghost of terror behind the captain's glare told the starlet that Santana shared her fears.

"I knew that when that butt-chinned man started that ridiculous choir that it would only be trouble!" the woman continued to no one in particular. "That glee club is going to be stealing money that belongs to the Cheerios! Cheerios is what brings funding to this school!

"And do you know why?" she asked the assembled girls. "Because the Cheerios are champions. What has that glee club won? Nothing! We deserve that money."

She stopped her rant, breathing hard. "Will Schuester had better watch himself: I have more tricks up my sleeve than he has bottles of hair gel in his bathroom cabinet. I will crush glee club."

The tirade over, Sue stared harshly at the Unholy Trinity. Although the blind fury had left her, the coach still was formidable. She scrutinized them each, before addressing her head cheerleader.

"I know you three are in Schuester's merry men," began Coach Sylvester. "So, I want you three to work with me—your spots on the Cheerios depend on it."

Rachel was horrified. As much as she enjoyed Cheerios, her true passion still lay with singing. She would never destroy something she loved so dearly, but she did not want to choose between two of her pursuits.

"What do we have to do, Coach?" promptly answered Santana.

The shorter brunette stared at the taller brunette in disbelief and could not help but wonder if Quinn would have surrendered to their trainer's demands so quickly.

Their elder was silent, contemplating. Rachel glared at Santana in disappointment but it seemed that the captain was unaffected. The starlet looked over at Brittany, who seemed frightened and slightly dazed.

"I know," Sue began slowly, still working out a plan. "I want a copy of the set list. I need to know what songs you're going to be singing."

She left it there, not willing to explain more of her plot. "You're going to get that for me," she ordered.

"Yes, Coach," replied Santana with a curt nod.

Satisfied, Coach Sylvester smiled cunningly. "Good. You can go now."

The trio offered no farewells and left the office swiftly and rushed into the locker room.

* * *

><p>It was just after their talk with Sue Sylvester and the Unholy Trinity were clustered together after showering. The three girls took their time in cleaning up, waiting for the other cheerleaders to clear out of the locker room so they could talk.<p>

Practice had gone smoothly considering the recent change in power. However, there was that one very concerning statement from their fearless coach that kept replaying itself in her mind. Rachel suppressed a shiver as she recalled Coach Sylvester's threat: "I will crush the glee club." Apparently, the cheer coach did not appreciate the New Directions sharing funds that normally were solely reserved for the Cheerios.

When Rachel saw the taller brunette toweling off, she approached her hesitantly. "Are we really going to help Coach Sylvester obliterate the glee club? I will tell you now that I will have nothing to do with it."

Santana scoffed at her, "Of course not. Coach is insane. But it's all good."

"But what about her threat and our spots on the Cheerios?" inquired Rachel, the head cheerleader's answer did little to quell her worry.

Santana shrugged, much to the starlet's chagrin. "I don't know. We can probably just give her a fake set list."

"But what if she finds out it's a fake?" asked the shorter girl impatiently.

The captain replied with a lop-sided grin. "Then we'll just tell her it was changed last minute. You know Mr. Schue isn't the most consistent teacher."

Rachel nodded. "That's true," she conceded, feeling more at ease.

"All right," said Santana as she pulled her dark hair back into a ponytail, "If Mr. Schue wants another member, then we'll get him one. God knows we're the only ones in this club with enough pull to get people to join."

Brittany looked confused. "But how? Glee's still considered Loserville even though we're in it and we're, like, the most popular girls in school."

"We could sing a song," Rachel suggested, "like in the halls or cafeteria or parking lot or somewhere populated. Show everyone just how fun glee club can be." The starlet beamed at the thought, her mind already turning over song ideas they could perform.

The other two of the trio looked less than receptive.

"No fucking way, dwarf," Santana shook her head. "That's totally disruptive and sort of rude and I'd rather not get detention for once." She paused, mulling over the idea again. "Besides, that's like something people would only do in some stupid musical."

"People like musicals, Santana," the smaller cheerleader defended herself.

The Latina looked at her in disbelief.

"Seriously, Berry, what era are you from?" the captain asked, rolling her eyes. "Maybe they did in the 30's or 40's or whatever but not anymore. You know what people like?"

"Explosions!" Brittany chirped, hopping in excitement. "People love explosions! What if we like blow up Mr. Schue's car? I mean, his car is totally shit already—he probably wouldn't mind."

Rachel's eyes bugged out to twice their normal size at the blonde's suggestion.

"Although that would be totally bad ass," replied Santana, "We would probably be expelled for that." There was a space of silence. "Besides, you know what happened the last time I set something on fire."

Brittany threw her head back in exasperation. "Fuck," she muttered.

The head Cheerio rubbed Brittany's shoulder comfortingly and Rachel decided she did not want to know the story behind that.

"We'll think of something," Santana stated as she headed for the door. "If not, I'm sure we could bully some nerd or blackmail somebody into it."

Rachel balked at the idea of gaining members through such underhanded measures. "That's hardly a noble method of getting new members and I, for one, still think my idea of recruitment is our best bet."

"You mean Broadway style?" the head cheerleader said, "I already said 'no' to that."

"But it could attract other students that are passionate about singing—"

Santana snapped, "I said 'no', Berry! Serenading the student body will not make glee club cool."

"But—"

"No."

"People would enjoy—"

"No."

"If we—"

"No."

"Could you just list—"

"No."

"Can I—"

"No! God, Berry! I can't—I just can't even—! I can't even with you, dwarf!"

The frustrated leader threw her hands up in the air in her vexation and started down the empty hallway.

Brittany stood in front of Rachel, her blue eyes piercing into the starlet's brown ones. There was a moment of silence as the two locked eyes. Somehow, the starlet found the taller girl's impassive stare almost more frightening than Santana's signature death glare.

"You made her lose her ability to even, Rachel," the tall blonde chastised.

The other Cheerio then shook her head in deep disappointment and chased after the cheer captain, leaving Rachel alone in the locker room.

* * *

><p>Lunchtime that day found Rachel standing behind Santana in front of a table that held several other Cheerios she hardly knew. Brittany stood next to Rachel, her eyes faraway, making the starlet wonder if the blonde was aware of her current surroundings. The short brunette felt useless as she stood by their captain in silence. Santana was leaning in front of one of the cheerleaders, in deep discussion. Rachel recognized her as the same Cheerio that had approached Quinn about boyfriend troubles months ago when she first joined the Trinity.<p>

"Look, Ginger Spice" said Santana, sounding bored with the conversation, "I know you can _kind of_ sing so why don't you join glee club? All you'd have to do is sway in the background and smile."

So-dubbed Ginger Spice retorted quickly, "You might want to get your groove on but I'd prefer not to commit social suicide."

"It's not as bad as it sounds," responded the head cheerleader.

"Bitch, please," the redhead rolled her eyes. "I actually care about my reputation, unlike you obviously." She flicked her coppery ponytail in dismissal.

Rachel could see that Santana's temper was being tempted by the cheerleader. The seething brunette scowled and glared death at the ginger girl. Brittany, apparently sensing trouble as well, grabbed Santana's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. At the contact, the cheer captain seemed to relax somewhat.

"Fine," the taller brunette replied snappishly, "Fuck you. We don't need you."

The trio immediately returned to their usual table. The head cheerleader collapsed into her seat with a defeated sigh, Brittany sliding in beside her. The blonde did her best to subdue her friend's anger and disappointment by massaging the leader's shoulders. Rachel silently took her place across from the pair, observing them as Santana rested her forehead against the lunch table while Brittany rubbed her neck.

Throughout the lunch period, Santana had been all but begging the other Cheerios to join the New Directions. Every single one had turned them down and Rachel concluded that even the Unholy Trinity did not have enough influence to interest people in the glee club.

It was, however, gratifying to see how dedicated to the glee club the two cheerleaders were, Rachel noted with a warm smile.

"Maybe we could look outside the Cheerios for members," the shorter brunette suggested.

"As much as it kills me to agree with you," Santana replied, her answer muffled slightly from the table, "you're probably right, man-hands."

Rachel opened her mouth to speak but closed it again when a large shadow fell over them.

"So, word in the cafeteria says that you're looking for someone to join the glee club."

Santana lifted her head slowly off the table, studying the newcomer suspiciously. There was a short pause before the head Cheerio nodded in confirmation.

"I'd being willing to join…"

The starlet watched the exchange in silence. The potential recruit looked familiar. She was a large girl with large glasses and long, brown hair. The petite brunette was fairly certain she was the A/V club president Lauren Zizes. She had worked with her more than once on glee club performances. It was amazing what McKinley's A/V club could accomplish.

"What's the catch?" asked the Latina skeptically.

Laruen shrugged nonchalantly. "I owe Puckerman a favour."

There was another pause between the two girls.

"Can you sing?"

"No."

"Can you dance?"

"No."

Santana cast an uncertain glance at Brittany, as though silently asking for her guidance. At the blonde's tiny nod, the captain turned back to the other girl.

"You're in."

But Lauren Zizes was not finished bartering. "Throw in a pack of Almond Joys and we got a deal."

Rolling her eyes, the head Cheerio let out a frustrated huff, but agreed. "Deal."

Rachel was elated. New Directions had their twelfth member, meaning that they could officially compete. She was eager to see the looks on everyone's faces at their rehearsal that afternoon.

* * *

><p>"This is wonderful, ladies!" cheered Mr. Schuester, "We're one step closer to Sectionals!"<p>

Rachel beamed brightly. She warmed at the thought of being so helpful to the club—aside from her superior singing skills.

The cheerleaders had just introduced the New Directions to their newest member. Sitting beside Noah Puckerman, Lauren Zizes regarded them aloofly.

_I will crush the glee club._

The starlet's smile disappeared when the coach's threat echoed in her head. She raised her hand to get the teacher's attention.

Mr. Schue stopped his discussion of set lists. "Yes, Rachel?"

"Mr. Schue," the petite Cheerio announced, "I bring dire news from cheer practice this morning."

The director frowned as Rachel paused for dramatic effect. "Well, what is it?"

"Coach Sylvester is plotting to destroy the glee club. She's having us—" she gestured to Santana, Brittany, and herself, "work with her. She wants us to give her a copy of our set list, but she didn't tell us what for but we can assume for sinister reasons." When she saw the teacher looking concerned, she added quickly, "But rest assured, Mr. Schue, we will not be participating in her wicked ploys."

"Well, I'm glad you girls aren't helping her," he replied finally.

Rachel smiled again. "I just wanted you to be warned."

The brunette turned to her side to see if her fellow cheerleaders supported her decision to tell Mr. Schuester. However, she was irate when she saw Santana filing her nails while Brittany had her eyes half closed, spaced out. Irritated that the two seemed so uncaring about Sue's schemes, she crossed her arms and sulked. She briefly wondered if Quinn agreed with her. Chancing a glance behind her, she spotted the blonde in the back row, separated from the group. The former cheerleader's expression was unreadable.

The director then led them to the auditorium to practice their potential performances for the coming competition.

* * *

><p>Quinn was the first to leave after practice was over. Curious, Rachel followed after the blonde quietly. She hardly considered herself a stalker, but she did want to know where the other girl was off to in such haste.<p>

When the ex-Cheerio marched directly into Sue Sylvester's office, the starlet grew light-headed with confusion. Quinn could not be thinking of helping the cheer coach. The blonde was no longer a cheerleader. She most likely hated Coach Sylvester for kicking her off the team, especially over a rumour. Perhaps the girl wanted to confront Sue about trying to tear down the glee club. After all, it was the only thing Quinn had left now.

Rachel wandered over to the row of lockers nearby and leaned against them, waiting for Quinn. If the former Cheerio's reasons for talking to Coach Sylvester were honest then she would have no qualms divulging them to her. She rested her head against the cold metal and stared at the tiles on the ceiling, thinking of what to say.

Her attention snapped back into the present when the office door opened. Quinn stood in front of the office, looking questioningly at her. Rachel offered her a small smile and crossed the hall to approach cautiously, trying not to stir up any hostility. Undoubtedly, she thought regretfully, Quinn would still be antagonistic toward her.

"Hey there, munchkin," said Quinn as she met Rachel halfway, "Trouble in the Lollipop Guild?"

"Hello, Quinn," Rachel greeted lightly, "Might I inquire as to what you were discussing with Coach Sylvester?"

The blonde stood tensely, quirking an eyebrow. "It's none of your business."

The starlet bit her lip, thinking. "Well, I hope you had only good intentions while meeting with Coach Sylvester then."

A sneaky smile crept onto Quinn's face, making Rachel nervous.

"You could say that."

The brunette's stomach twisted with suspicion and worry.

"You know, Quinn," Rachel replied gently, "Glee club is very important to me. It should be important to you too." She paused, thinking of the ideal way to phrase what she wanted to say. "With all these rumours flying around about you, you're becoming a social pariah…so you'll need friends—real friends. You need true friends now more than ever. Glee club could be them, your family so to speak." She paused again, licking her lips tentatively. "I could be your friend, Quinn. I understand what you're going through."

The girl in front of glared coldly at her. "How would you know anything of what I'm going through?"

The cheerleader took another hesitant step closer. "Despite what I've done, I never meant to hurt you. And I'd still like to be your friend, if you'd let me. Even if you don't let me, I'll probably keep trying to be your friend. You know how persistent I am."

Quinn stared at Rachel, her hazel eyes locked with brown ones. The blonde seemed to be weighing what the brunette had said carefully. Her features softened as she continued to stare at the shorter girl. A ghost of a smile crossed her pink lips. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again, apparently thinking it better otherwise.

"I'm sorry for everything, Quinn," Rachel murmured delicately, "for everything you're going through. I'd like to help you." Rachel hated her apology even as the words slipped from her mouth; it just felt so useless and weak now that the damage had been done.

With dismay, the starlet watched as the ex-Cheerio's expression hardened again.

"I don't need help from you, RuPaul," she spat. "I don't need you or that stupid glee club."

The blonde then broke her gaze and hastened down the hallway towards the main entrance. Remorsefully, Rachel watched Quinn leave, wishing she could repair their friendship. It appeared that it would take more than a few feeble apologies to fix it. The petite cheerleader remained in her position, staring at where her companion had left.

"Why did I do it?" she asked herself aloud. _To get Finn_, she answered inwardly.

A boy was not worth this amount of grief. A boy was not worth ruining Quinn's reputation. A boy was not worth anything to either girl if it tore them apart. The boy had not even looked at Rachel, let alone spoken to her, since the day she told him about the baby scare. To be honest, she hardly cared anymore.

For the first time in her life, Rachel Berry knew she had made the wrong decision.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I'm pretty sure most of you know what Quinn's up to with Sue Sylvester, but that's okay…it's not really the most intricate scheme ever. But it's Quinn's plan. It is a big plan. It is a plan that is big.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten: Sectionals—Not Just a Couch**

"Get ready for me, love, 'cause I'm a comer," Rachel belted out the lyrics as she stood center stage in the auditorium. "I simply got ta march—my heart's a drummer."

The empty auditorium rang with the sound of her voice. The short girl always felt most relaxed during her private rehearsals.

Sectionals was that coming weekend and Rachel was to be the featured soloist. She was hardly surprised when Mr. Schue had announced it; she was a supremely gifted vocalist. Being the center stage soloist was a far cry from being one face lost in a crowd of others back in Chicago.

"Nobody, no, nobody," Rachel sang, pushing herself harder, "is gonna rain on my parade!"

She held the last note as long as her lungs would allow. When she finally brought the song to its close, she took a bow for her imaginary audience. The audience would be captivated this coming weekend when she opened New Directions' performance with this powerful number. She could already hear their applause.

"You're very talented, you know," said a voice, startling Rachel out of her reverie.

The starlet looked down the aisle and spotted a familiar blonde standing by the front row.

"Quinn?" inquired Rachel, surprised. "How long have you been here?"

The brunette quickly hopped off the stage to approach her companion.

"Just since the climax," answered Quinn, a smile playing on her lips.

She took a seat in the first row and Rachel followed suit.

"You're very good. Far better than I am."

Rachel felt herself grow warm from the other girl's praise. "You're quite good too; we just have different types of style," she replied. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at lunch?"

"I could ask you the same," the blonde smirked playfully. "Besides, this seemed like the best place to find you."

"You were looking for me?"

Quinn nodded, tilting her gaze to her hands that were folded on her lap.

"I guess I just wanted to apologize for yelling at you the other day. You were just being kind and I practically hissed at you," she explained.

"It was probably just hormones," Rachel joked lightly.

The other girl chuckled before growing serious again. "If the roles were reversed, I probably would've done the same thing you did. Perhaps worse even."

It was Rachel's turn to stare at her hands.

"I—I think I wouldn't mind, you know, being your friend," Quinn whispered. "I know I don't really deserve your kindness, but I'd be willing to be friends again."

The brunette stared at the blonde next to her. "Of course you deserve kindness."

The other girl kept her eyes on her lap, her flaxen hair spilling over her face.

"I'm a bad person, Rachel," she said, her airy voice barely audible.

Rachel remained silent, stunned by the confession. "No, you're not, Quinn," she protested.

She placed a gentle hand on her companion's arm. However, Quinn tensed at the touch and recoiled away from the starlet.

"Yes, I am," the former cheerleader stated firmly, a hint of remorse stinging her voice.

She stood up hastily and backed away from the brunette. Her hazel eyes darted side to side, looking torn, and Rachel swore she could see the internal battle taking place inside the other girl.

"You know what?" Quinn said after a pause. "Forget it. I can't do this. I just can't."

The blonde swiftly started up the aisle toward the exit.

"Can't do what, Quinn?" the petite cheerleader called after her. She quickly got up and followed the fleeing girl. "Wait! What's wrong?"

Quinn stopped and spun to face Rachel. "Do not come near me, troll!" the blonde spat. "I take it back—we're not friends."

The brunette gasped at the taller girl's sudden change of heart. "Why not?"

But there was no response other than the heavy doors to the auditorium swinging shut as Quinn retreated.

Sorely confused, the starlet stood staring at the exit. The girl was like a feral cat, retreating at the slightest hint of human touch. Every time Rachel thought she might make progress in mending their friendship, and getting them to grow closer, Quinn would scurry away and hide inside the safety of harsh words.

* * *

><p>It was the day of Sectionals. Excitement buzzed around the members of New Directions as they filed into the yellow school bus that would carry them for the forty-five minute drive to where the competition was being held. It was a very cold mid-December morning and the sky was blushing pink with the sun just above the eastern horizon. The students' breath clouded around them as they chattered noisily together and shamelessly boasting their own talent.<p>

Rachel was last in line to board. She had been keeping an eye on Quinn ever since the odd conversation in the auditorium. The blonde had not even looked at the brunette since, making the starlet wonder what had changed the ex-Cheerio's mind.

Currently as she got on the bus, Rachel observed the flaxen-haired girl take a seat in the back beside Noah Puckerman. Quinn's face was a carefully-crafted pallid mask of pure neutrality. The shorter girl frowned as Puck draped his arm over the blonde's shoulder.

"Hey, Rachel," Finn's voice shook her from study. "Sit with me?"

She looked over her shoulder to see the quarterback waving her over to him, a big smile on his face. A week ago, Rachel would have rejoiced at the prospect of sitting with Finn. But ever since the day the pregnancy rumour was born, the brunette felt nothing but guilt being near him. He was nothing but a physical reminder of her broken friendship with Quinn. From the corner of her eye, Rachel thought she could see the former cheerleader grimace when Finn smiled. The brunette was immediately reminded that the tall football player was not worth all of this remorse.

"Rachel!" called Brittany from the back row. "Are you coming?"

The starlet let out a relieved sigh and nodded to the other cheerleader.

"I'm sorry, Finn," she told the footballer, "I have to decline, but thank you anyways."

She retreated to the back of the bus to join her fellow Cheerios, leaving the poor boy looking quite confused. Sitting next to Santana, Rachel beamed at the two cheerleaders beside her. Brittany returned her smile while the taller brunette stared straight ahead at the seat in front of them, eyes glazed.

"Is she okay?" Rachel asked Brittany, pointing to the girl between them.

The tall blonde nodded. "Yeah, she's just not a morning person, and it's worse today because it's a Sunday," she explained. "I hope you don't mind sitting on the end. I need to sit by the window 'cause I get car sick. Ever since this one field trip in second grade, we sang about the wheels on the bus going round and round…I threw up all over the teacher. Now I always feel sick on buses."

When Rachel's face grew pale, Brittany quickly added, "Don't worry, I feel fine right now!"

"That's a relief." The starlet sighed, relieved.

Crisis averted.

The shorter girl then examined Santana again. It was her short skirt that caught Rachel's attention: the cheer captain was already wearing her thin costume for their performance. Both Rachel and Brittany were wearing warm street clothes. The club would change later closer to their actual stage time.

"Why is Santana wearing her costume? Isn't she cold?" she asked out of curiosity.

Brittany fidgeted and glanced out the window. "Well, Santana hates mornings and it'll be less work later if she's already changed."

The school bus groaned into life and lurched forward. Her blonde companion reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a small bag. Opening it, the other girl smiled as she held it out for Rachel.

"Gummy bear?" Brittany offered, "They're nice and warm now that they've been in my pocket."

The shorter girl politely declined.

Brittany shrugged and dumped a handful of the candy into her mouth. "I can't wait to sit on that couch," declared the blonde.

"What?" the starlet inquired, confused and uncertain if she wanted to know the answer.

"You know," she replied flatly, "the sectional sofa we're going to see today; it must be really special for us to be driving all this way. I'm going to sit on it until there's a permanent mould of my butt in the cushion." Brittany spoke as if it were a foolproof plan. "I hope it's not leather—I hate leather couches 'cause they stick to your skin."

Rachel gawked at Brittany. "That's not the kind of sectional we're going to attend…" she tried to explain but was met by a blank stare from the taller girl.

Rachel quirked her brow, puzzled. She stared straight ahead at the seat in front of them. Out of her peripheral vision, she fancied that the blonde was smirking at her bewilderment. As much as the brunette liked Brittany, she had a very difficult time having conversations with her. Most of their talks ended up in these bizarre anecdotes that left Rachel speechless. It was a wonder to her that Brittany and Santana always seemed understand one another when the taller girl's musings were so absurd.

Letting the subject drop, the two fell into a comfortable silence. Brittany settled in to look out the window with Santana slowly leaning over to rest her head on the blonde's shoulder, asleep. Rachel let her brown gaze search the bus. In the front, Mr. Schue was on his cell phone. Finn and Sam Evans were discussing something quite animatedly. Behind the two football players, Lauren Zizes had claimed her own seat. Mike Chang and Tina were busy kissing rather heatedly, making Rachel wonder if the Asian couple ever came up for air. Mercedes and Kurt sat across the aisle from the happy couple, reading a fashion magazine.

At the sight of the duo, the starlet regarded her hands. She decided it was best not to recall the argument she had with them back in November. She looked up again and turned her attention to the seat opposite hers. Noah Puckerman still had his arm draped over Quinn's shoulders, talking about Super Mario, from what the brunette could over hear. Based on the blonde's bored expression, Rachel perceived that Quinn hardly cared about the Nintendo character or anything else that spilled from the boy's mouth.

* * *

><p>The bus came to a stop and all the students sluggishly filed off the yellow vehicle. A cold breeze whipped Rachel's hair and stirred her mind out of its torpor. Rachel stretched her cramping limbs when she reached the pavement. Brittany and Santana quickly passed her by without a second glance and headed toward the local high school where the competition was being held.<p>

The starlet watched the two briefly before her eyes drifted over to where Quinn lingered behind her. The blonde's hazel stare was fixated on the Rachel, unnerving her. Barely able to suppress the shiver it gave her, Rachel quickly trotted to catch up with her fellow cheerleaders. As she followed a few steps behind the other two Cheerios, the shorter girl could feel Quinn's eyes burning into her back, scorching the flesh beneath her sweater.

* * *

><p>They would be going last, Mr. Schue had informed them. Rachel was rather disappointed at that development. She had been eagerly anticipating her show choir solo debut with "Don't Rain on my Parade," hoping to go first to set the bar high for the other two glee clubs attending. Having a solo part in their second song, "Somebody to Love" by Queen, only increased her excitement and disappointment in going last.<p>

As she took a seat in the school's auditorium next to Brittany, she reminded herself that going last had its advantages. New Directions's performances would be the freshest in the judges' minds. Her voice would be so spectacular that the judges would forget the other two choirs' songs.

Finally, she thought, she would accomplish something that she had envisioned since the beginning of the school year before the Cheerios and Unholy Trinity drama distracted her from her original goals.

She was yanked from her mind when she noticed Quinn taking the chair next to her.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She had not spoken to the blonde since their conversation earlier that week. Perhaps Quinn had changed her mind again about being friends? The ex-cheerleader was rather fickle when it came to Rachel lately. Quinn seemed to constantly teeter between liking her and hating her that it made it impossible for the starlet to tell where she stood with the other girl.

"Hello, Quinn," Rachel greeted tentatively.

"Midget."

It was a start, at least.

The shorter girl let a small smile slide across her face. "Are you as excited as I am for Sectionals?"

Quinn rolled her hazel eyes. "I doubt it," she replied shortly.

Noticing Rachel's crestfallen expression, the blonde added, "I _am_ excited, don't get me wrong." Then, she mumbled, "I'm just excited for different reasons."

Rachel wondered if she was supposed to hear that last part. However, before she could ask, the first performance started from Jane Addams Academy's glee club. From what she understood, it was an all-girl school for juvenile delinquents. After singing a rousing rendition of Stevie Wonder's "Superstition," a too familiar melody began to play.

"Oh my God," the brunette whispered to the blonde next to her, "That's 'Somebody to Love'—that's _our_ song!"

Beside her, Quinn was shaking her head. "I knew Mr. Schue shouldn't have picked such a popular song."

_Confound it, Mr. Schuester!_ Rachel silently cursed their teacher.

Despite the shock, she managed to applaud their rival's performances. Next was Haverbrook School for the Deaf. She knew it probably made her a bad person, but she hardly expected this glee club to pose much of a threat.

Her heart leaped into her throat when their first song started.

"Don't tell me not to live," sang a girl with mousy brown hair, "Just sit and putter…"

That girl was slaughtering one of the best songs Barbra Streisand ever gave this world. It was a crime! It was an atrocity! Her ears hurt from the monstrous sound that dribbled from onstage. Deaf or not, that girl was simply not qualified to sing Streisand.

She jumped when she felt Brittany place a hand on her arm.

"We need to go to the green room," the cheerleader whispered, "Tell Quinn."

Nodding, Rachel turned and passed the message onto the other blonde. She grabbed Quinn's hand, briefly noting the girl stiffen at the contact, before following after the rest of New Directions out of the auditorium.

She wanted to smack that guy in the audience who was crying from the girl's singing. This wasn't inspirational—it was murder!

"Who told you you're allowed to rain on my parade?"

The starlet wished it would pour on the singer as she escaped into the hallway.

Once they joined the rest of the glee club assembled into the green room, Quinn promptly dropped Rachel's hand. The shorter girl frowned and went to stand with her fellow Cheerios.

"Guys, we have a big problem," started their director. "We need two new songs to perform in less than ten minutes."

"Did the other clubs know we were gonna be singing those songs?" asked Sam Evans. The blond football player looked confused as he turned to Finn, who shrugged.

Murmuring broke out among the club members.

"Isn't it obvious?" Mercedes questioned them all. "It was one of the Cheerios. Don't y'all remember Rachel telling everyone about Sue Sylvester wanting a copy of our set list?"

The entire club, including Mr. Schue, turned their attention on the three cheerleaders in the room.

"Did one of you give Sue our set list?" the teacher glanced at each of the three girls.

Appalled, Rachel was the first to speak up. "Mr. Schue, you can't possibly believe these ridiculous accusations!"

Mr. Schue's expression remained unbelieving. "Sue is very manipulative."

"We didn't do it!" she cried.

She was met with silence.

"We didn't do it!" she repeated.

The petite brunette glanced back to the other two suspects. Santana stood with her arms crossed in front of Brittany, acting almost like shield against the angry glares that were being thrown their way. Brittany shrank from the scrutiny of her peers.

"Look, we may be Cheerios, and _yes_, Coach _did_ ask for a copy of our set list, but she never followed up after that meeting," stated Santana. "None of us gave her anything."

When she was met with distrusting stares, the taller brunette sighed. "Okay, look. I know it must sound crazy to you, but I actually _enjoy_ glee club and I actually _want_ to be here. Yeah, you heard me right. I thought that'd be pretty obvious when Britts and I got us our twelfth member. I mean, I wasn't about to fu—screw this up. It's the truth…although I'll probably deny it later."

Brittany nodded from behind Santana. "Yeah, we like glee club."

That seemed to make the club believe them.

"Okay, if you didn't help Sue," Mr. Schuester said, "Then who did?"

They all looked at one another with suspicious eyes, daring the perpetrator to confess. Rachel's heart quickened and her brown eyes widened as she flashbacked to only days ago. She was standing in the hallway outside the cheer coach's office, waiting.

In her mind's eye, Rachel saw a certain blonde girl leaving Coach Sylvester's office. She heard the conversation she and the other girl had. The words they had exchanged that day echoed in her head and the image of the sly smile that had captured the ex-cheerleader's lips burned behind her eyes.

"_Well, I hope you had only good intentions while meeting with Coach Sylvester then."_

"_You could say that."_

The starlet felt her legs grow weak and her stomach churn as the realization set in. She took a few steps backward, leaning against the wall for support.

Quinn had given Sue Sylvester their set list for Sectionals? Rachel felt as though she were falling into a bottomless pit. Was it karma—punishment for the blonde's pregnancy debacle getting out for the whole school to judge her? Was this retribution for her breaking her promise to a friend?

This could not be happening. After all the work they all put in to their performances, Quinn included, would be for nothing. New Directions would lose and when they got back to school on Monday, glee would be no more. Her dream that she had been harbouring since the start of the school year, since she was even old enough to dream, was destroyed in a single act of an ex-cheerleader.

Anguished anger from Quinn's betrayal rushed through her veins as red as the blood that it coursed in.

Rachel shot a glare at the perpetrator, finding the blonde staring directly at her. The petite starlet wanted nothing more than to slap that satisfied smirk off Quinn's face. But, before the brunette could even reach her, Quinn had left the green room and into the adjacent hallway.

"Quinn!" she called out to the retreating figure. "Don't you know how important Sectionals is? If we lose this, we can't go to Regionals, which means glee club will be cancelled."

The blonde huffed, staring icily at the shorter girl. "Should I care what happens to a bunch of losers who like to sing about how much their life sucks?"

"You know how much glee club means to me!" She bit her lip in worry and frustration with the flaxen-haired girl. "It's important to the others too," she mentioned, remembering Santana's confession from a few minutes ago.

"You think glee club is something important?" Quinn shouted, her venom shooting out with every word. "It's nothing but some rag tag group of misfits brought together by life's circumstances. It's good for the movies but this is no movie, this shit is real! Trying to compete with the well-oiled machine of Cheerios is fucking moronic!"

"You're not even on the Cheerios anymore, Quinn," Rachel pointed out.

At that statement, the blonde laughed mirthlessly. "Oh, but I will be again. When spring tryouts come, Coach Sylvester will make me head cheerleader again if I help her get glee club out of the way. It's siphoning funding that rightfully belongs to the Cheerios."

The shorter girl felt her mouth go dry. "You can't do that."

"Watch me, you fucking midget!" the ex-cheerleader stepped closer to Rachel, her hazel eyes burning holes into the brunette. "You deserve to have glee club stolen from you."

Tears of frustration and fury spilled over her cheeks. "I was a fool to trust you that day. You took away the Cheerios from me! You took away Finn! You took away the things I needed most! So, I'm just returning the favour." Her eyes turned much darker at the threat.

Rachel was stunned, her brown eyes locked with the hazel ones of her accuser.

"But Finn deserved to know," she defended herself.

"You promised you wouldn't tell!" Quinn all but screamed in the petite cheerleader's face. "It wasn't your place to tell! You took advantage of me in my weakest moment. You pretend to be some sweet girl from some special school, but you're not that innocent, Rachel! You're just like me—a back-stabbing, two-faced liar who threw her friend under a bus!"

Quinn took a few steps back and massaged her temples, looking disturbed. "I've never felt so enraged before…this must be what it feels like to be Santana."

Before more could be said, Mike Chang came out of the green room obviously looking for them.

"Um," stammered the Asian boy with an awkward smile, "You two need to get in here—we kind of go on in a couple minutes and you two still need to get into your costumes."

The shorter girl nodded, "And what are we going to sing?"

"We decided on 'Don't Stop Believing'," the footballer answered. "We thought it was appropriate for our situation," he added light-heartedly.

The two girls shared one final exchange of glares before they ran off to get changed into their costumes.

* * *

><p>It was a train wreck.<p>

It was worse than a train wreck. It was a train wreck that consisted of a train that was filled with bunnies and sick orphans on the way to the hospital for the orphans' life-saving surgery. And then that train got blown up in a fiery explosion within sight of that hospital.

They looked unprofessional and unrehearsed, probably because they were unprofessional and unrehearsed. She lost count of how many times someone ran into someone else. She had bumped into Tina hard enough to knock the other girl flat on her behind. And Brittany's erroneous lyrics forever ruined the formerly inspirational song:

"Don't stop cleanin', there's mould up on that ceilin'!"

Rachel wished fervently that she could forget the entire performance.

As New Directions stood on stage with the other two glee clubs waiting for the announcer to open the envelope to reveal the winner, the starlet could already feel her despair.

The announcer ripped open the envelope and there was a dramatic pause. "First runner-up goes to Haverbrook School for the Deaf." He paused for applause before continuing, "And first place goes to Jane Addams Academy!"

Although she had not expected to win anymore, it still came as a harsh blow. Not hearing her club's name being called almost made Rachel physically hurt. By the looks on the expressions of her fellow club members, she could see that they too felt the same pain.

Glee club would be no more. Her dream of leading New Directions to victory and making it special and known were over. She felt as though a part of her had been murdered.

Sad brown eyes glided over the others, their own disappointment and gloom clearly painted on their faces. When she met the hazel eyes of the club's murderer, she glared, trying to communicate all her misery and loathing in a single look.

Quinn smirked back, quirking an eyebrow, obviously pleased with herself. Her response only angered Rachel further. The brunette crossed her arms, subtly hugging herself. She shot one last hate-filled glare at the blonde before leaving the stage with the rest of New Directions.


End file.
